



;"£;„ ; ' 














Book ^ 



C0JEKRIGET DEPOSIT. 



CONCRETE PSYCHOLOGY. 



AN INDUCTIVE INVESTIGATION 



OF 





tl, 





FOR NORMAL SCHOOLS, HIGH SCHOOLS, 
READING CIRCLES, AND COLLEGES. 



BY 



REV, CHAS, CysOYMR, A.M., 

PROFESSOR OF PEDAGOGY AND PSYCHOLOGY IN THE KEYSTONE STATE NORMAL 
I SCHOOL. AUTHOR OF A PRACTICAL CONSPECTUS ON 

m, RHETORICAL STYLE AND INVENTION. 



if ' 




KUTZTOWN, PA. : 

JOURNAL AND PATRIOT PRINTING HOUSE, 

1890. 



\-i^ 



<2>fe 



Copyright secured r8g 

BY 

CHAS. C. BOYER. 



Pref 



OjOC 



Origin of the Book. — The present volame is not the product of 
a rage for book-making. Text hooks on ahnost any subject are so nu- 
merous that he who imagines he can write a book filled with new ma- 
terial or with dis-ioveries that should eclipse other authors, will find 
jliimself sadly deluded. I have written this treatise under the pressure 
of honest conviction — I have written it becau.se I believe it to be my 
duty. 

Text books on psychology are quite numerous ; but most of them are 
abstract and heavy, adapted rather to Colleges than to ISTormal Schools 
and practical life. 

A treatise on psychology for pedagogical and practical purposes 
should be rather a systematic exposition than a cyclopedic presentation 
of ancient and modern doctrines. A Normal School psychology 
should aim at culture and scholarship directly applicable to interpreta- 
tions of pedagogical and practical situations . 

Normal School text books should not be merely a reference book, a 
compiL ion of diverse doctrines ; but a sj^stematic development 
adapted to the grasp of ordinary Senior class wort. . 

Surely we need a book on psychology adapted at least in a measure 
to sound principles of education. It is a favorite doctrine of pedagogy 
that a school recitation has three distinct missions to perform. These 
missions are test, drill and instruction. If the fundamental aims of 
education are culture and scholarship, a school recitation must have 
the three enumerated missions. 

A recitation in psychology requires preparation with a text book 
that is based upon the three missions of a recitation. The ordinary 
treatise on psychology is not adapted to these requirements. 

The present volume is adapted to a Normal School recitation in at 
least eight or ten ways. 

1. The Psychological Framework is a continuous anah'sis de- 
signed to aid the student in grasping the predominant text items. 



IV pre:face;. 

2. Over fourteen hundred tent topics are required to be answered 
directly from the text and its suggestions. 

3. About three hundred propositions, a nut-shell summary of psy- 
chology, are to be committed and analyzed by students. 

4. The treatise is an inductive development based largely upon 
concrete illustrations. 

5. These features of the book, it will be seen, adapt it to Normal 
School work and put the student into a proper way of helping him- 
self A constant effort to compare consciousness with the text is thus 
aimed at. The system should make original thinkers. "While con- 
crete induction is the prominent feature, the book does not hesitate to 
depart from induction when logical analysis confirms an inductive in- 
ference. 

6. I have also tried to adapt the treatise to the science and art of 
teaching. Of all professions that of teaching is based the most upon 
a correct psychological training. In accordance with this fact, the 
treatise constantly keeps the school room and the teacher in view. 
Methods of cultivating all the powers of the mind are indicated and 
often dcA'eloped. 

7. When a book is not written for elementary training, the author 
may select a favorite topic and develop it to the exclusion of related 
topics ; but a school book must bo comprehensive and impartial. 

Assuming that the mind is a threefold energy and that education 
should recognize this three-fold energy and develop it in balanced pro- 
portion, impartial emphasis is placed upon Intellect, Sensibilit}'' and 
Will. No topic is developed at the -expense of the other. 

8. In view of questions that arise from the mind of meditative stu- 
dents in psychology, a short treatise has been added on peculiar phe- 
nomena and animal mind. It is hoped that the above adaptation 
will make the book a friend to all readers. 

Lanquage and Style. — It was stated that the text is an easy an- 
alysis of concrete phenomena. These phenomena are analyzed in lan- 
guage simple and easy enough for all students who have a sufficient 
training to take up the study of psychology. While an effort was 
made to keep an easy style, topics were not passed over when they 
required the most abstract development. The volume is thus intended 
to meet the wants of College students. The book may be covered in 
about sixteen weeks. 

Preparation and Kecitation. — Students are to be required to 
use the continuous analysis in the Psychological Framework ; to mas- 
ter the test questions belonging to a lesson ; to commit and analyze 



PREFACE. V 

the propositions ; to analyze the concreta illustrations of the text ; and 
to compare text conclusions with their own consciousness. 

The reclfafion is to include a test on committed propositions ; a test 
on analysis; a test on individual topics; a drill on points not accu- 
rately recited ; and instruction additional to the text. The proposi- 
tions will summarize and hold psychologic reading until the mind has 
had time for assimilative reflection. The recitation should be topicj^l 
and written when possible. 

Philosophical iSTANDroiNT.^ — The present volume is not the pro- 
duct of materialism, nor is it the product of extreme rationalism. From 
the dual organization of body and mind, we must infer a reciprocal 
relati(>n between body and mind. We must stand on this ground that 
the mind animates the body and that the body is in every instance the 
servant of the mind. The recent conclusions of correct physiology are 
not slighted ; but it is ever remembered that physiological functions 
are simply handmaids of a spiritual and immortal mind. 

Such a belief as psychopannychism or absolute automatism can 
never find a place in this middle stand point. The treatise is also in 
full conformity with the doctrines and morals of revealed religion. 
Science must ever be ennobled by revelation. 

Dedication — The present volume is humbly dedicated to the cause 
of thorough culture and scholarship ; to the students and teachers of 
our country, especially to the Senior classes of our State Normal 
Schools; and to God, the loving Father of student and teacher. 

CHAS. C. BOYEPv. 



Psyc"^ri;oloq{coA cJVame-^//or"k:. 



PRBFACn^ 

Introduction. 

Scientific vs. Common Knowledge. 
Psychologic Induction and its Moods. 

Doubt and Faith. 

Guidance and Keflection. 
Manifold Importance of a Course in Psycholog}''. 
The Nature and Existence of Mind. 
Basis for Scientific Classification. 

Power V3. Capacity. 

The Distinction is Essential. 
A Mental Faculty. 

Four Characteristics of a Distinct Faculty. 

The Grand Faculties of the Intellect. 
Functions and Faculties of the Intellect. 

Sense Presentation. 

Unmodified Representation. 

Ideal Combination and Ideal Creation. 

Direct Comparison, Abstraction, Generalization, etc. 

Mediate Comparison. 

Original Conception. 

Five Sources of Information. 

The Fundamental Power of Human Mind, 

CONSCIOUSNESS. 

CHARACTERIZATION. 
A Presentative Power. 



2 PSYCHOT. OGICAL FRAMBWORK 

Its Function. 
Its Product. 

Introspection vs. Perception. 
Relation to Attention. 

DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 
Inter-relation of Sensation and Consciousness. 
Child-mind Consciousness. 

Pre-consciousness 

Self-consciousness. 
Peculiar Consciousness. 

Sub-consciousness. 

Abnormal Consciousness. 
Natural Consciousness. 
Philosophic Consciousness. 

DOMAIN OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 
Cognition of Mental Acts. 
Cognition of Mental Products. 
Cognition of Self. 
Cognition of Objective Occasions. 

CULTIVATION OP CONSCIOUSNESS. 
ANOTHER THEORY OF CONCTOUSNESS. 

Mental Mtnphasis. 

ATTENTION. 

The Nature of Attention. 
Alwaj^s Voluntary. 
Distinct from Interest 

Psychological and Practical Value. 
Two- fold Operation. 
Automatic Action. 
Centralization and Transfer. 

PART FIRST.— INTELLBCT. 

Perception, 

Nature of Perception. 



PSYCHOLOGICAL FRA:\IE\VOKK 

The Physical Medium. 
It is a Facult}'.^ 

The Four-link Perceptive Process. 
Percept Cognitions. 
Five Conditions for Perception. 
Percept Knowledge. 

Of External Existences. 

Of Objective and Subjective Qualitio?!. 
Threefold Classification of Qualities. 
Derivation and Enumeration of Qualities. 
Five Special Senses. 

Absolute Importance. 

Adaption to External Kelations. 
Reciprocal Relation of Body and Mind. 

Cranial Medium. 

Temperament and Physiognomy. 

The Sensorium and Consciousness. 
Sense Information from Each Sense. 
Corrective Percepts and Reliability. 
Psychological and Practical Value of Percepts. 
Cultivation of Perception. 

Memory. 

Representation of Past Events. 
Three-fold Character of Representatiori. 
Distinction of Products and the Inference. 
The Nature of Memory. 

A Power. 

Three Necessary Functions. 
Association and Suggestion. 

Various R'iaflom of Contiguity. 

Suggestion is the Law of Relation -. 

Primary and Objective Relations. 

Secondai-y and Subjective KclaticMis. 

Enumerations and Illustrations. 

Retention. 

Two-fold Nature. 

Ten Assistant Relations. 

Mnemonics. 

I* 



4 PSYCHOLOGICAL FRAMEWORK 

Previous Co-existence and. Memory. 
Materials for Retention. 

Equivalents for Soisaf'ioti. 

Formerly Associated Pi'rcrpfs. 

Pormerly Associated (i))/rrj>fs. 

An Immaterial Eeceptacle. 
Recollection. 

Two-fold Character. 

Suggestive Kelations for Kecollcction. 

Products of Recollection. 

Vividness and Dimness. 

Quickness and Slowness. 

Success of EecoUection. 

Accuracy and Completeness. 

Word Painting from Recollection. 

Disease and Old Age and Favorite Pursuits. 

Mental Superiority and a Good Memory. 
Recognition. 

Re-association. 

The Ultimate Function. 

Completeness and Accuracy vs. the Contrary. 

A Psychological and Practical Linking. 

Personal Identity and Recognition. 

Recognition in Old Ago and Beyond the Grave. 

Recognition of Sorrows. 
Qualities and Kinds of Memory. 

Enumeration. 

Application. 
Cultivation. 

Remarkahle Result?. 

Directions. 

Imagination, 

A Power — Its Relations. 
Imagination and Suggestion. 
Suggestive Sources for Imagining. 

Five Sense-apprehensions. 

Recollections and Recognitions. 
The Process. — Imagination at Work. 

Voluntary and Involuntary. 



PvSYCHOIvOGlCAI. FRAMEWORK. 

Always Active in its Operation. 

Reproductive and Productive. 

Philosophic Imagination. 
Products. 

Ideal Combination. 

Ideal Creations. 
Drapery. 

Sense-limitation. 

Material and Mental Limitation. 
Missions. 

Practical. 

Personal Ideals and Destiny. 
Depravity. 

Early Activity and Unhealthy Products. 
Cultivation. 

Cautions and the Special Agent. 

Materials and Methods. 

Preparatory View of the Understanding. 

Character and Products. 

Psychological Mission. 

Reflection and Elaboration. 

Synthesis and Analysis. 

Preparatory and Ultimate Functions. 

One Common Characteristic. 

Five Distinctions. 
Direct Comparison vs. Mediate Comparison. 

Distinctions. 

Functions. 

Materials. • ' 

Bases. 

Purposes. 

Inference. 

Judgment. 

General Character. 

Preparatory and Ultimate Functions. 

DIRECT COMPARISON. 

Nature and Domain, 
The Process and its Basis. 
Desiirn. 



PSYCHOI.OGICAI. f^ramkwork:. 

Preparatory Kelation to Mechanical Classification. 

Necessity of Proximity and Synthesis. 

Products. 

Eelation to Mediate Comparison. 

ABSTRACTION. 

Nature and Domain. 
The Process Described. 
Kelation to Perception and Other Powers. 
Analytic Character. 
Product and its Character. 
Origin of a Pure Abstract. 
Ideal or Keal Value. 
Pure Abstract vs. Abstract Concept. 
Destiny of Pure Abstracts. 
Eelation to Generalization and Direct Comparison. 

GENBRAI^IZATION. 

Nature and Domain. 

The Process and its Character. 

A Concept and its Several-fold Character. 

Generalization as a Basis for Comparison. 

Abstract Concepts and Concrete Concepts. 

Formation of an Abstract Concept. 

Three-fold Process of detaining an Abstract Concept. 

Nature and Products of Lower and Higher Generalizations. 

Character aiul Contents of a Concrete Concept. 

Derivation and Naming of Concrete Concepts. 

Content of Concepts. 

Abstract Concepts have only cotdent. 

Concrete Concepts have coidrut and ejienf. 

Science and Language Formation. 

Formal and Informal Generalization. 

CI.ASSIFICATION. 

Nature and Domain. 

An Ultimate Function. 

Bases. 

Process. 

Results. 

Mechanical Classification vs. Scientific Cla?sificatioji, 

History of Classification. 

Succession of Functions and Judgment. 



PSYCHOLOGICAL FRAMEWORK. 7 

Cultivation of Judgment. 
Importance. 
Methods and Directions. 

Reasoning. 

Nature and Domain. 

A Distinct and Yoluntary Power. 

The Process and Force of Mediate Comparison. 
Composition of the Syllogism. 

Construction and Nomenchiture. 

Propositions Analyzed 

Quantity and Quality. 

Opposition and its Formula. 

Laws and Illustrations of Opposition. 

Origin of the Laws of Syllogism. 

Explanation of Four Thought-laws. 

Many kinds of Syllogisms. 

Moods and Conversion. 

Sorites. 

Application and Value cjf the Syllogism. 
Uniformity of Nature and Fair Representation. 
Validity of Syllogisms. 

Origin of Absolute and Dependent Relations. 
Enumeration and Elaboration of Syllogistic Relations. 
Syllogistic Application of Relations. 
Character of a Necessary Truth. 
Character of a Contingent Truth. 
Deductive Reasoning. 

Two Sources of Material and the Nominalist. 

Demonstrative Character. 

Absolute Kelations Involved. 

An Abstract Domain for Deduction. 

Illustration of a Necessary Truth Analyzed. 

Validity of one Demonstration. 

Theoretically Irresistible Conclusions. 

Eational Science and Pratical Life. 
Inductive Reasoning. 

Perceptive Materials. 

Illustration of a Contingent Truth Analyzed. 

The Evidences of a Cumulative Svnthesis. 



PSYCHOI.OGICAI. FRAMEWORK. 

A Practical Domain for Induction. . 
The Process often Pre-supposes Generalization. 
The Validity of Induction as a Moral Certainty. 
Empirical Science and Practical Life. 
Distinctions between Deduction and Induction. 
Evidences of a Contingent Truth. 

Experimental Induction. 

Competent and Incompetent Observers. 
Sufficient and Insufficient Data. 
Illustrations of False Inductions. 
Application to Physics, etc. 

Induction from Testimony. 

Nature of Tradition, History, and Legal Evidence. 

Universal Need for Testimony. 

Natural and Keasonable Credence. 

Intention and Motive not always Keliable. 

Reliable Testimony and Possibility of its Items. 

Enumeration of ten Marks of Reliable Testimony. 

Elaboration of ten Marks. 

Mastery of these Marias. 

Four Degrees of Certainty in a Conclusion. 

Induction from Analogy. 

Nature of Analogy. 

Analysis of»an Illustration. 

Narrow Domain and Uncertain Conclusion. 

Analogy in Language and Physiognomy. 

Certainty Estimated by Extent. 

Counter Analogy. 

Analogy in Defense and Experimentation. 

Induction from Hypothesis. 

The Nature of Hypothesis. 

Illustration of Historical Hypotheses. 

Origin and Developmeiit of a Hypothesis. 

Verification and Rejection. 

Enumeration of Verified and of Rejected Hypotheses. 

Rejected Hypotheses Have a Practical Value 

Hypothesis Distinguished from Theory. 

Cultivation. 

Importance and Domain. 
Methods for Induction. 



P S Y C H C I^ O G I C A I^ F R A M K W O R K . 

Mothod.i for Deduction. 
Outline iind Elaboration. 

Intuition, 

Preparatory. 

The Mind's Two Source,^, of Idaas. 

Occasion Distinguished from Cause. 

Relation of Perception to Intuition. 
Existence of Primary Ideas. 
Distinct Character of Primary Ideas. 
Origin of Primary Ideas. 

Suggestion from Sense-occasions. 

An Active Power to Catch Suggestions. 

Immediate and Sub-conscious Process. 

A Semi-voluntar}^ Power. 

Fundamental Domain. 

Significance of a Fundamental Powc. 
Logical and ChronDloglcal Relation to Perception. 
Remembrance of the Birth of Intuitive Ideas. 
Relation to Recognitioji (Identity). 
■Relation to Imagination (Limitations). 
Relation to Direct Comparison (Equality). 
Relation to Abstraction and Generalization. 
Relation to Reasoning (Axioms). 
Chronological Relation of Primary Ideas and Truths. 

Primary Truths. 

Existence of Primary Truths. 

Historical Names. 

Can not be Acquired Truths. 

Tests of Primary Truths. 
Self-evidence. 
Necessity. 
Simplicity. 
Universality. 
Enumeration of Primary Truths. 

Primar}' Ideas in Detail. 

SPACE. 

Nature of Space. 

Origin of the Idea. 

Attributes of Space and Geometry, 



lO PS C HOI.OG I C AIv FRAMKWORK 

TIME. 

Nature of Time. 

Origin of the Idea. 

Our Measurement of Time. 

Attributes of Time and Practical Life. 

IDENTITY. 

Nature of Identity. 
Four Species of Identity. 
Origin of the Idea. 
Mistaken Identity. 
Identity the Basis of Life. 

Proiifcss and Improvemenf. 

Rpcogidilon and lief rlbuf ion. 

Science and, Idendiiy. 

CAUSE. 
Nature of Cause. 

PJienoniena and Eoenfs. 

Not Mere Antecedence. 

An Effective Anieccdence. 

Proximity of Cause and Occasion. 

Classification. Analyzed. 
Origin of the Idea. 

Vicinity ami its Sagycstion. 
Origin of the Notion of Universal Causation. 
Search after Cause, and Scientific Products. 

THE AESTHETIC. 
Classification. 
Nature of the Beautiful. 
Three Lines of Explanation Introduced. 
Four Subjective Theories Criticised. 
Four Objective Theories Criticised. 
The Spiritual Theorj^ and its Application. 
Nature and Theory of the Sublime. 
Nature and Theory of the Ludicrous. 
Origin of the Idea of the Aesthetic. 

Seiise-saggestions. 

Development of Tasfe. 
Nature of Taste. 

Conipariso)! and its Indnifine Standard. 



P S Y C H O Iv O G I C A I. !• R A M K W O R K . II 

(rood 2}ixfc and Poo)- Td.str. 
.1 St(md(i)-d of T((ste. 
Cult'ii-dfioii of Td.sic. 

THE MORAL. 

Nature of the Monil. 

A (kniqdcx Notion. 

Test of Moral Theories. 

Foi>/ Tests ClHiradenzi'd. 
Four Defective Theories Tested. 
The Correct Theory of the Moral. 

Conformity w'ltli Go(Ps Holy Nalare and Mill. 

Objecthie Character of the JSLoral. 
Origin of the Idea of the Moral. 
Six Defective Theories Tested. 
The Correct Theory of the Origin of the Moral Idea. 

TJie Moral Idea is a. Prij)tary Idea.. 
Existence of a Moral Nature and of Conscience. 

Nature of Co)iscience 

TJiree Liiuitive (.hynitioiis. 

Three Direct Cov/jxn-isoiis. 

Three Moral Decisions. 

Subsequent Moral Enudions. 
Mental Formula of Moral Experience. 
The Authority of Conscience. 

Sanity and Mature Intelligence. 

Culture of ttie Intnitlce Cognition. 

Full Infor/nation. 

Freedom from Wrong M<divcs. 

Personal Relations to an Act. 
Peculiar Moral Situations. 

Conflicting Motives. 

CoiLscientious Bigotry. 

Like and Ought. 
Psychological Degeneracy. 

No Dcceptio)i Intended. 

Conscience not Designed for Decejdion. 

Misused Conscience not a Safe Guide. 

Dii-ersily of Lfornurtion, aiul Cu.tfuiw. 

Absolute and Relatice Right. 

Abimrmal aiul Unhc((lthy C:)nscicnrr. 

Culiiration of Co/tsrlr/icr. 



12 PS Y C HOIvO GIC AI, F R A M e: W O R K . 

PART SMCOND.—SENSIBILITY. 

Mmotional Nature, 

PREPARATORY. 

Psychological Manifestations Three-fold 
Feelings as Concomitants of Thought. 

KXISTBNCE OF AN EMOTIONAE NATURE. 
Four Proofs: i. Consciousness, 2. Eanguage, 3. Con- 
duct, 4. Physiognomy. 

EMOTIONAL DOMAIN. 
A Bright and a Dark Domain. 

PvSYCHOIvOGICAE POSITION OF FEELINGS. 
Thought- Precedence. 
Thought - Proportion . 
Sequences of Volition and Action. 

CLASSIFICATION BASED ON ATTRIBUTES. 

Simple Emotions. 
Affections. 
Desires. 

Positive and Negative Phases. 
Origins and Modifications. 
Simple Mmotion. 

SIMPLE INSTINCTIVE EMOTIONS. 

CHEERFULNESS. 

Nature of Cheerfulness. 
Childhood and Youth. 
Cheerful Old Age. 
Missions of Cheerfulness. 

MELANCHOLY. 

Nature of Melancholy. 
Prevalence. 
Causes. 
Mission . 



P S Y C H O I. O G I C A L FRAMEWORK. I3 

SORROW. 

Nature of Sorrow. 
Characterized. 

Causes. 

Manifestation. 
Sorrow Healed. 
Missions. 

SYMPATHY. 

Nature of Sympathy. 

Instinctive and Urgent Character. 

Manifestations. 

Innate Origin. 

Contagion of Sorrow and Gladness. 

Missions. 

SIMPLE eatio:n^al emotions. 
Rational lyimitations. 

ENJOYMENT OF S EI.F -EXCEEEEN CE. 

Nature of Self-Excellence. 

Items. 

This Enjoyment Has its Origin in Comparison. 

Proper Mission : Humility and Self-respect. 

Perverted Porms Enumerated. 

Pen-pictures of Perverted Forms 

ENJOYMENT OF THE LUDICROUS. 
Nature of the Ludicrous. 

Its Origin and Expressions. 

Rational Basis. 

Principal Forms. 

Higher Considerations. 

A Mission : Buoyancy and Empliasis 

Depravity of Wit. 

ENJOYMENT OF NOVELTY AND VARIETY. 

Nature. 

A Pleasurable Emotion. 
Its Origin in Surprise. 
Surprise nearly always Enjoyed. 
Mission : Relief and Impulse. 



14 PSYCHOIvOGICAI, FRAMEWORK. 

Perverted Enjoyment. 
Ennui as an Urgent Impulse. 
Depravity of Ennui. 

ENJOYMENT OF THE BEAUTlFUIv. 

Its Nature. 

Calm and Soothing. 

A Spring of Action. 

The Beautiful vs. the Ugly. 

Immediate Precedence of an Aesthetic Cognition. 

ENJOYMENT OFTHESUBEIME. 

Its Nature. 

Pleasing, but Intense and Awful. 

Distinct from Enjoyment of the Beautiful. 

Missions. 

Adaptation Urges Cultivation. 

ENJOYMENT OF THE RIGHT. 

Its Nature. 

A Sustaining Joyousness. 

Universal Pleasure of a Good Conscience. 

A Mighty Impulse to Eight Conduct. 

Immediate Precedence of a Moral Cognition. 

Intense Bitterness of Remorse. 

In the Dread Beyond. 

Mission : Voice of Warning and of Love. 

The Affections, 

Preparatory. 

Origin of the Aifections. 
Subjective and Objective Character. 
Classification into Two Classes. 
Enumeration of Each Class. 
Origin and Character of a Passion. 

BENEVOLENT AFFECTIONS. 
IvOVE OF KINDRED. 
Its Nature. 

Original and Universal. 
Adaptations. 
Absence of This Love. 
Missions: Happiness and Purity. 
Mother's Intense Love. 



PS Y C H O LO GI C A I. FRAMEWORK. 15 

FRIENDSHIP. 

Its Nature. 

Desirability and Universality. 

A Congenial, Sympathetic Benevolent Fellowship. 

Its Origin in Association that Reveals a Unison Chord. 

The Soul of Friendship is a Common Emphasis, 

Permanency of True Friendship. 

Radius of Friendship. 

GRATITUDE. 

Its Nature. 

Joyousness Plus Benevolence. 
The Measure of its Fervency. 
Many Modes of Expression. 
Ingratitude. 
Mission of Gratitude. 

PATRIOTISM. 

Its Nature. 

Connate and Universal. 

Called into Exercise by Association. 

Its Rational Character. 

Fervency Modified. 

Missions : Self-protection and Tribal Separation. 

P H I Iv A N T H R O P Y . 

Its Nature. 

Origin and Manifestations. 
Missions 

PIETY. 
Its Nature. 

Origin and Manifestations. 

Impiety. 

Missions of Piety. 

MALEVOLENT AFFECTIONS. 
Preparatory. 

Original and Universal Manifestations. 
Instinctive and Rational Character. 
Relation to Benevolent Affections. 
Displeasure Plus Resentment. 



l6 PSYCHOI.OGICAI.FRAMKWORK. 

RESENTMENT. 

Its Nature. 

Temperament and Direction. 

Intensity Modified. 

Missions : Protection and Justice. 

Culpable when Unreasonable and Uncontrolled. 

Character, Expression, and Direction of Envy. 

Character, Expression and Direction of Jealousy. 

Character, Expression, and Direction of Revenge. 

Checks against Violent Kesentment. 

The Desires, 
Preparatory. 

Economical Impulses. 

Triune Character. 

Instinctive and Original. 

Classification and Enumeration. 

Sources of all Desires. 

Acquired Desires. 

Occasions : Apprehension and Enjoyment. 

Impulsive Forces. 

Modifying Influences. 

Strength and Growth. 

Control of Desires vs. Passions. 

ANIMAL DESIEES. 
Nature and Design. 
Enumeration. 
Pen-pictures. 

KATIONAL DESIEES. 
Enumeration. 

DESIRE FOR HAPPINESS. 

Constituents of Happiness, 

Original and Universal Desire. 

Sunshine and Shadows. 

Things that Help to make us Happy. 

Not Necessarily Selfish. 

Happiness Deferred. 

The Desire for Life Based upon the Desire for Happiness. 

Even Suicide Proves the Desire for Happiness. 

A Threefold Mission : 

Depraved Eorms. 



psychoIvOGicai^fra]\i:e:work. 17 

DESIRE FOR POWER. 

Elaboration. 

What is Power ? 

Desire for it Orignates from Enjoyment of Power. 

Strength and Effects. 

The Character, Direction, and Depravity of Emulation. 

The Character, Direction, and Depravity of Ambition. 

Rational and Irrational Manifestations. 

DESIREFOR KNOWIvEDGE. 

Its Nature. 

Universal Manifestation vs. Exceptions. 

Moral Value Dependent. 

Its Mission as a Motive Impulse. 

DESIRE FOR POSSESSION. 

Elaboration. 

Nature of Possession. 

Universal and Original Desire for Possession, 

Its Origin in the Notion of Advantage. 

Covetousness is Selfish and Degrading. 

The Odious aiid Intense Character of Avarice. 

Association and Regret in the Miser. 

The Dying Miser. 

Three Missions of the Desire for Possession. 

DESIRE FOR SOCIETY. 

Elaboration. 

Companionship vs. Seclusion. 
The Native Impulse is Unselfish. 
Strength and Beauty of a Social Nature. 
Uses of Solitude. 
Companionship and Affection. 
Hermit Life. 

Missions of the Desire for Society. 
Depraved Forms of this Desire. 

DESIRE FOR ESTEEM. 

Elaboration. 

The Nature of Esteem. 

Original and Universal Desire for Esteem. 

The Impulse in its Purity is Unselfish. 



I8 PSYCHOIvOGICAI.FRAME:WORK. 

Manifestations. 

Approval of one Loved Voice. 

Lost — a Name ! 

Love of Fame Charactei-ized. 

Mission of the Desire for Esteem. 

Depraved Forms. 

Public Opinion and Popular Applause. 

HOPE. 

Elaboration. 

Desire and Expectancy. 

Things Hoped for. 

Growing Ardency of Hope. 

Manifestations. 

Exaggeration. 

Anticipation vs. Possession. 

Impatience vs Hope Deferred. 

Mission of Hope. 

Despair. 

The Maniac's Returning Hope. 

Hope is a Reasonable Impulse. 

"Hope Beyond" is not a Deception. 

FKAR. 

Elaboration. 

Aversion and Expectancy. 

Things Feared are in the Future. 

Intensity of Fear Measured by Estimation. 

Exaggeration, 

Mission of Fear. 

The Coward ! 

Boldness vs. Fear. 

Hope vs. Fear in Life. 

CUI.TIVATION OF THE EMOTIONAI^ NATURE, 

Springs of Action, rather than Faculties. 
Intelligent Direction. 
Controlled by Moral Motives. 



PSYCHOI^OGICAL frame; WORK. I9 

PART THIRD,— THE WILL. 

ITS NATURE. 
A Difficult and Important Stud.}^ 
Two Functions of the Will. 

THREE DESTINIES OF A CHOICE. 

Illustrations : 
The Candidate. 
Choice of a Profession . 
The Prodigal Son. 

DETAIIvED ANALYSIS. 
Ends, 
Motives, 

Definition. 
Origin of Motives. 
Conflict. 
Unison. 

The Initial Volition; or, Determination, 

Definition. 

Development. 

Certainty. 

The Final, or Executive Volition, 

Definition. 

Free and Executive. 

Irrevocable. 

Volition a First Cause. 

FREEDOM OFTHEWIEE. 
Nature, 

Not of Products. 
But of Functions. 
Affirma five A rgit men ta Hon . 
Four Arguments. 
Common Sense, 
Ethical. 



20 PSYCHOIvOGlCAI, frame: WORK. 

Psychological. 
Contradiction. 

Refutation of Objections. 

Five Objections. 

Predominance of Emotions. 

Predominance oi Motives. 

Implied Contrary Choice. 

The Dictum Necessitatis. 

Divine Supremacy vs. Freedom. 
Dr. Mann's Definition. 
Freedom and Divine Mediation. 
Psychological Degeneracy. 
Cultivation and Correction. 
Resume on the Will. 

PART FOURTH,— PSYCHOLOGICAL 
SUPPLBMMNT. 

PECULIAR MENTAL PHENOMENA. 
Reciprocal Relation of Body and Mind. 

SIvKEP. 
Two- fold Nature. 

Exhaustion of Nerve Porce. 

Loss of Relation. 

Loss of Power. 
Falling Asleep. 

Successive Losses. 

Death. 

Unconscious Palling Asleep. 
Asleep. 

Spontaneous Mental Activity. 

Incongruous Combinations. 

Conscious, hut Involuntary. 

DREAMS. 

Nature of Dreams. 
Definition. 
Some Coherency. 

Conscious, hut not always Remembered. 
Involuntary. 



PS YC H O 1.0 GI C AIv F R AM K W O R K . 21 

Origin of Dreams. 

Suggestion of Sensation and Latent Disease. 

Acquired Impulse and Latent Talent. 
Characteristics of Dreams. 

Somewhat Incoherent. 

Apparently Real, 

Seemingly long Continued. 
Peculiar Dreams. 

Prophetic Communications. 

Presentiment. 

Explanations. 

S O M N A M B U Iv I S M . 
Phenomena. 

Physical Locomotion. 
Artistic Genius. 
Uninterrupted Vision. 
Vocal and Tactual Eeview. 
Loss of Sense Relations. 
Clear Consciousness, hut no Volition. 
Explanations. 

Origin : Suggestion to an Abnormal Sensorium. 
Acquired Impulse of Intense Application. 
Intensified Mental Energy in Somnambulism. 
Tactual Merging of all Sensation. 

MESMERISM. 
Phenomena. 
Explanations. 
ABNORMAE MENTAE ACTION. 

Phenomena. 

Delirium. 

Mania. 

Insanity Permanent. 
Explanations. 

Of Delirium. 

Of Mania. 

Of Permanent Insanity. 



22 PS Y C H OI.OGI C AI, FR AM E WORK. 



ANIMAL MIND. 



NATURE OF THIS STUDY. 
Important and Difficult. 
Sources of Information. 

CONSTITUTION OF THE ANIMAI, MIND. 
General Contrast with Human Mind. 
DETAIIvED INVESTIGATION AND 
C O N C I. U S I O N S . 

Animal Intelligence. 

Some Consciousness in Animals. 

Impulse instead of Attention Proper. 

Perception and its Products, 

Animal Memory Continues and Kepeats Sensations. 

Animals Lack Imagination Proper. 

Animal Judgment Conforms Action to Accurate Sensation. 

No Necessity for Reasoning Proper. 

Lack of Intuition ; or, Reason. 
Animal Sensibilities. 

Animal Feelings Based on Association. 

Strength of Emotions, Affections, and Desires. 

Lack of the really Rational Feelings. 
Absence of Animal Will. 
CONCIvUSIONS DRAWN FROMDE- 
TAII.ED CONTRASTS. 

Generic Distinctions. 

Contrivances of Animal Intelligence. 

No Universal Adaption of Intelligence — no Cultivation. 

The Logical Inference. 



3rLirocl"uci"io"ru. 

CAUTION.— Be sure to study the Preface. 

J. 

Science is organized knowledge. It deals with facts and phe- 
nomena. It seeks for truths, causes, laws, classification. 

Science, — A little child may be familiar with the 
phenomenon of a falling apple ; but such knowledge is 
not scientific knowledge. When, in later years the child 
of maturer mind investigates the conditions, causes and 
laws to which the falling apple is subject, his knowledge 
is converted from common to scie?itific. Science orgajiizes 
knowledge by means of system and arrangement. When 
such organization is based upon observation and experi- 
ment, the process is induction, and the product is Empiri- 
cal Science. When the organization is evolved out of the 
laws of thought and out of the primary truths of Reason, 
the process is deduction, and the product is Rational Sci- 
ence. Induction is an argument from particulars to gen- 
erals ; deduction is an argument from generals to particu- 
lars. 

Psychology a Science. — Psychology is rather an 
inductive than a deductive science. It is an effort to or- 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

ganize the facts and phenomena of 7nind ; an effort to seek 
causes, laws, and classification. 

^. 

Psychology is the science of the human mind. The main source 
of information is consciousness. 

Information, — The word psychology is derived from 
two Greek words, meaning soul and discourse. It is a 
science, whose data are derived mainly from consciousness. 
Other sources of information are observation, memory, tes- 
timony, and crystallized linguistic forms. While the data 
of consciousness are indisputable and beyond doubt, the 
reflective process of ijiterpretatioyis may be fallacious. The 
more mature the mind of the student is, the more correct 
will be his reflective process in the interpretation of the 
data of consciousness. The young student may be cer- 
tain of the phenomena reported by his own consciousness ; 
but he will often be confused in his first efforts of reflec- 
tive introspection. Time will make his steps more sure 
and accurate. 

Doubt and Paith of Induction. — In view of the 
above, the student must approach the study of mental sci- 
ence with a certain amount of doubt and a certain amount 
of faith. In other words, he must not accept the state- 
ments of writers on mental science without exercising an 
original reflective power, a sort of comparison of his per- 
sonal experience with the statements of testimony. On 
the other hand, /ail/i also is necessary— faith equivalent 
to reliance on proper and widely gathered testimony. 
This is the faith of ordinary, everyday life. It is true 
that individual writers on mental science may mislead 
students, because of erroneous interpretation of the phe- 
nomena of mind ; but the vast accumulation of compara- 
tive testimony on the subject of psychology, that has come 



INTRODUCTION. 25 

to our present times, is a safe-guard for the student's 
reading and investigation. 

Guidance and ReHection. — The mental habit of 
attentive introspection is especially important in the study 
of mental philosophy. He who will not determine to 
think attentively, should not expect ever to know much 
about the study of mind. It is of equal importance to 
guide the young student of mental science in his reading, 
lest it should become a hap-hazard and aimless perusal of 
endless pages on a subject that is new to most Normal 
school seniors. Such a guide it is hoped the propositions 
of the present treatise may be. These propositions should 
be committed accurately and held up to the mind for an- 
alysis until the thoughts contained and the reflections sug- 
gested have taken firm root in the student. While this 
system brings into service mechanical memory, it aims at 
a gradual freedom from the same, — it aims at reflective 
processes of proper inductive science. 

Manifold Importance of Psychology. — The 

relative high organization and consequent position of man 
make it evident that mind, the highest capacity of man, 
must be the highest sphere of human science. God sure- 
ly meant that man should, through a study of his own in- 
tricate organization, be able to comprehend more clearly 
the wisdom, power and goodness of a loving Father. The 
advantages derived from a study of mind are manifold, 
and yet for some time our educational scheme did not in- 
clude a thorough training in psychology. Surely the 
student gains vastly in mental grasp and discipline when 
he faithfully perseveres in the inductive method necessary 
in mental philosoph}^ 



26 IN'TRODUCTION 



Psychology is the fundamental preparation for school teaching. 

Pedagogical Value. — From a pedagogical stand 
point, psychology is perhaps the most important study in 
a Normal school curriculum. Without a thorough train- 
ing in this science, the school master will be but a blind 
leader of the blind ; with it, he can direct and stimulate 
and enthuse. In every vocation of life, men demand pre- 
paration or apprenticeship. Why should school teaching 
be an exception in a preparation adapted to its special 
domain ? 

The laws of a child's thought nature, the pliability of 
his emotional nature, and the resistance of his voluntary 
nature dare not be trifled with ; else a teacher is rather a 
destroyer than a builder. A skillful application of the 
doctrines of mental science will enable a teacher to attain 
to almost absolute moulding power over the child. Con- 
sidering that all products of the mind, whether they be 
thoughts, feelings or volitions, depend for their energy 
and complexion upon proper culture, how intensely vital 
it must be to understand the laws of this proper culture ! 
But it is mental science that teaches these laws ; therefore, 
to the Normal graduate every hard day's work in psy- 
chology will bring a grand harvest of educational success. 

The mind is that simple, spiritual substance which thinks, feels, 
and wills. , 

The Nature of Mind. — It is easy to analyze any 
personal experience into a three-fold mental activity. An 
epidemic finds a victim in our town. We wonder whether 
the disease is contagious or infectious ; this is a thought 
process. We look with sympathy upon the sufferings of 



INTRODUCTION. 27 

the sick man ; we hope he may soon recover, or we fear 
he may die : sympathy, hope, fear, — these are feeling-s. 
Our feelings may, by their intensity, prompt us to resolve 
to do all in our power to save the sick man : this resolve 
is distinctly different from thought and feeling : it is a 
product of the will — it is a volition. Thought — feeling — 
volition : these are all the possible products of our mental 
activity. Tracing these products backward, we find that 
the mind thinks, feels and wills. Though the mind can 
manifest itself in three distinct modes, the mind itself is 
not three, but one. The mind is not complex, but simple, 
It is simple and indivisible because it is a spiritual sub- 
stance. We say substance to avoid the error that mind is 
something unreal. It is a real though not a material 
substance ; its substance is spiritual and can be known 
only by its products. 

Existence, — If now we try to prove the existence of 
mind, we need only prove that there are present these 
three products, — thought, feeling and volition. Accor- 
dingly there is mind in the cat, the lion, the horse ; but 
we must distinguish animal mind from human mind, be- 
cause the products of animal mind differ not only in de- 
gree but essentially and in kind. 

This topic will be further developed under the heading 
of Animal Mind. 

Basis of Classification. — The mind is a vast field 
for study ; we shall become confused amid the chaos of 
our interpretation, unless we can hit upon some basis of 
classifying mental capacities. We must agree upon some 
unit-basis and then adhere to this basis in our analysis 
and classifications, or else our psychology will not be a 
science. We have already noticed that the mind can 
think, feel and will. Hence the three grand modes of 
mental activity are Intellect, Sensibility and Will ; but to 
continue our analysis, let us now examine the character- 



28 INTRODUCTION. 

istics of mental capacities. In this process, we shall find 
very many capacities and we shall find that all the capa- 
cities of the thought nature are characterized by emphatic 
qualities that should distinguish them into a class by 
themselves, altogether different from the capacities of feel- 
ing and volition. For the sake of this distinction, let us 
call all the capacities that have certain emphatic qualities 
by the name oi powers. If now we look for another term 
to express the conceptions of this word power, we find the 
^oxd. faculty to answer our purpose. This word, derived 
from the I^^Xm facio , I do, has in its root all we mean by 
the emphatic qualities of a power. What are these qual- 
ities ? lyCt us state them under a synoptic contrast : 

A POWBR IS '- A CAPACITY IS - 

1. Active. I. Receptive or passive. 

2. Distinct. 2. Often indistinct. 

3. Voluntary. 3. Involuntary. 

4. Antecedent. 4. Subsequent and consequent. 
Distinctions, — From these distinctions, which we 

shall find essential in the process of inductive psychology, 
we conclude that our basis for analysis and classification 
must recognize emphatic qualities. T/iis basis is, accor- 
dingly, the mental faculty . Upon our notions of a mental 
faculty will depend the whole system of analysis. Writers 
on psychology differ in their definition of the mental fac- 
ulty, and thus are apt to confuse the student. This ques- 
tion once settled, will make our work easy. 

5. 

A mental faculty is a distinct and voluntary power of the mind. 

Characteristics of a Mental Faculty,— The 

definition before us recognizes the emphatic qualities 
found in all thought activities of the mind. The word 
faculty denotes doing power, activity, a?itecedent activity. 



INTRODUCTION. 29 

A voluntary power is always capable of cultivation by 
direct exercise. 

Mniimeration, — According to this definition, four 
essential characteristics are found in a mental faculty. 
We therefore affirm that a mental faculty is a distinct 
power ; an active power ; a voluntary power ; and a power 
capable of cultivation. 

Development, — A power is distinct when it has a 
special function to perform and when this function is clear- 
ly discernible, like tenor in a full chorus. The word ac- 
tive is opposed to the word passive. We might say im- 
partive opposed to receptive. A power is active when it 
is a producing agent, like perception or intuition. A 
power is voluntary when its function can be performed by 
voluntary effort. This does not mean that a mental fac- 
ulty always acts under voluntary impulse ; but that, the 
mind is able to subject any of its powers to the determi- 
nations of will. A power is capable of cultivation when 
it can be developed by direct exercise, like memory. 

Mental F'anctions Distinct, — All mental faculties 
may be active at the same moment, and yet none be hin- 
dered in its own function. Distinct activity is activity 
that must be clearly discernible. Bach voice in a chorus 
is clearly discernible and unhindered. Just so are the 
functions of mental faculties clearly discernible and un- 
hindered. In demonstrating a proposition of geometry, 
we require the activity of memory, imagination, judg- 
ment, reasoning and intuition, — perhaps all the faculties 
of our thought nature ; and yet the function of memory is 
clearly discernible and is not hindered by the activity of 
any other faculty. 

Grand Paciilties, — The three grand faculties of the 
mind are Intellect, Sensibility and Will. The Intellect 
is the thinkijig-^QiSNQX of the mind ; the Sensibility is 



30 INTRODUCTION. 

the feelmg-^ow&r of the mind ; and the Will is the resol- 
2'/;z^ -power of the mind. 

The word grand is used in the sense of comprehensive 
or inclusive. A grand faculty of the mind thus differs 
from a distinct, or specific faculty in several important re- 
spects. It is well to remember these distinctions. 

The mind of course acts in various ways and upon differ- 
ent classes of objects. If the external world and all our 
environments consisted of only one class of objects, there 
might be no necessity for more than one class of mental 
activity ; but as it is, God has adapted our mental capa- 
cities to the various classes of our external environments. 
The first grand mode of mental activity is Intellect, 
thought, reflection. By the ordinary inductive process 
we shall find that the Intellect has the following char- 
acter : 

6. 

The Intellect is presentative, representative, reflective and intu- 
itional. It includes Perception, Memory, Imagination, Judgment, 
Reasoning and Intuition. 

Sense Presetxtation, — Here we shall find how much 
nerv^e organization has to do with proper interpretation of 
mental phenomena. Recent researches in anatomy and 
physiology prove the intimate relation of body and soul. 
We speak of head-ache ; we mean brain-ache. What 
causes the brain to ache ? Something external has come 
in cantact with our nerve fibers and caused the peculiar 
throbbing sensation called head-ache. This sensation in 
some mysterious way affects the mind, and is converted 
into mental modifications. Mental operations are more 
laborious — perhaps impossible when the nervous organism 
of our body is hindered in its healthy functions. 

If now we examine more closely, we shall find that the 



INTRODUCTION. 3 I 

mind receives impressions and suggestions from every con- 
tact of our nerve organization with the external world. 
What is the process ? It may be summed up in the fol- 
lowing enumeration : contact — sensation — suggestion — 
mental acts. This four-fold process, known as percep- 
tion, may be illustrated by any sense-experiment. For 
example, take color : the optic nerve is brought under 
the influence of light. This contact causes a sensation in 
the organism of vision. By some mysterious divine pro- 
vivSion this sensation performs the office of suggestion and 
produces in the mind our notion of color. It is now a 
product of the Intellect. How did the mind come to know 
anything about color ? The mind was able to present to 
itself, through the senses, the external causes of color, 
and thus the notion of color itself. This presentative 
power is, then, the first characteristic of intellect. 

UnmodWed Representation. — In the absence of 
objects of sense-perception, the mind is able to r<?present 
former impressions. The image or recalled impression 
may faithfully tally with the original perception or con- 
ception ; it may be a picture of the actual reality once be- 
fore presented to the mind. 

Modified Representation, — The representation 
may, however, not be a faithful picture of a former actual 
perception ; it may be colored and moulded by our indi- 
vidual fancy. It is representation again ; but a represen- 
tation of the ideal. Here, then, are two distinctly dif- 
ferent products, and we dare not class them as the pro- 
ducts of one specific faculty ; but we say that the mental 
picture recalling the actual is a product of memory, and 
that the image tinted with the ideal and possible is the 
product of imagination. The representative power thus 
includes two mental faculties,- — memory and imagination. 

The Understanding, — The mind is, however, ca- 
pable of an altogether different process. It can turn over 



32 INTRODUCTION. 

and over the products of perception, memory and imagi- 
nation, can undergo the two thought processes of synthe- 
sis and analysis with reference to any selected topic. 
These two processes result, the one in classification, the 
other in conclusions. The products are .distinctly dif- 
ferent, and indicate distinct mental faculties as the pro- 
ductive powers. These two faculties are respectively 
judgment and reasoning. Perception, memory, imagina- 
tion, judgment and reasoning are all faculties of the mind 
that are brought into activity by contact with the exter- 
nal world. The mind is not yet at the end of its resour- 
ces. Not all thought activity, not all intellectual energy 
comes from without. 

Original Conception. — The mind has the power of 
looking into itself. Deep down in the soul, beyond the 
vision of child mind, are the fundamental thoughts of in- 
tuition, primary ideas and truths born into the human 
mind. As the mind matures it gradually recogriizes these 
truths, and sometimes consciously, at other times uncon- 
sciously interprets the phenomena of life accordingly. 
The character of the intellect is, therefore, presentative, 
representative, reflective and intuitional. It includes per- 
ception, memory, imagination, judgment, reasoning and 
intuition. Induction can find neither more nor fewer 
distinct intellectual faculties. All of these have the dis- 
tinguishing and emphatic qualities of a mental faculty 
and all differ alike in their products from feeling and vo- 
lition. 

If now we should call widely differing capacities of the 
mind by the same name oi faculty, we would violate all 
proper classification of science. 



INTRODUCTION. 33 



The sources of information in mental science are consciousness, 
observation, memory, crystallized linguistic forms and testimony. 

Sources. — When, in the inductive process, we ex- 
amine our own mental phenomena, we appeal to con- 
sciousness ; in its revelations we discover all distinct men- 
tal acts and states. When we wish to examine the phe- 
nomena of another's mind, we must do so by means of ob- 
servation. 

What we remember of our ow^n mental experience de- 
serves credence as data of mental science. These data are 
more liable to be mistaken or misinterpreted. 

The testimony of writers on psychology constitutes a 
source of information, and deserves the credence given to 
ordinary testimony. 

A very reliable source of information in mental science 
is found in cr>^stallized linguistic forms. Language is the 
expression of thought. Kver}^ crystallized linguistic form 
thus represents a process of mind, an activity of Intellect, 
Feeling or Will. Very important conclusions sometimes 
depend on an interpretation of these linguistic forms ; as 
I am conscious ; I know. 



B. one jxirbdaTT^eru-tal Power 
oj }*{"u-n-ia"ru jV\_"i"rud. 



L CONSCIOUSNESS. 

8, 

Consciousness is the mind's power of introspection. Its func- 
tion is to cognize mental acts and affections. 

Preliminary Remarks, — Consciousness is the fun- 
damental power of the human mind. 

To it we must appeal for data in our study of the mind . 
It is therefore imperative to understand the nature of con- 
sciousness and its evidence. But it is not an easy matter 
to understand the full domain of consciousness, nor is it 
easy to trace its development. 

For years I have held that consciousness could not be a 
mental faculty. I was honest in the statement of the the- 
ory and still believe that it accounts for nearly all phenom- 
ena involved ; but am profoundly convinced that the text- 
theory will reconcile all powers of the mind in fu7iction 
and desigji. 

My former students will find that their mind gives a 
ready consent to what will be said. 

I. CHARACTERIZATION. 

A Power, — Consciousness, like Perception, is a pre- 
sentative power of the mind. We may say this because 



C O N vS C I O U vS N E vS s . 35 

Consciousness presents to the mind itself a k)iowledge of 
all distinct internal acts and affections. Perhaps it were 
better to say that consciousness is the mind presenting to 
itself an immediate knowledge of its own acts and states. 
In the moment of any mental act, the mind knows this 
act. If we think, we knoiv we tliinJi ; if we feel, we knoiv 
^efeel ; if we resolve, we knozo we resolve, 8lc. 

It is to be noted here that consciousness, though often 
so regarded, is not a passive receptivity. Dr. Hickok re- 
gards consciousness as a mental illumination. It was a fa- 
vorite doctrine of the writer of this treatise to call con- 
sciousness a mental illumination in which each distinct 
mental act stands revealed as having occurred. While it 
is possible to state a consistent definition of consciousness 
as a mental illumhiation , it is perhaps better to abandon 
this definition, because it implies that consciousness is the 
result of a mental friction or phosphorescence. This we 
can not prove by an inductive investigation. 

Its F'unctioiiS. — As already intimated, it is the func- 
tion of consciousness to cog7iize mental acts and states. 

The derivation of the word consciousness from con, with, 
and scio, I know, points to the proper conception of the 
function of consciousness. It is a knowing with, a know- 
ing at the same fnoment in which some mental act takes 
place. 

As in perception we may know more or less clearly, 
more or less distijictly, more or less completely, so in con- 
sciousness we know^ more or less clearly, distiiictly, com- 
pletely. These degrees of exact knowing depend upon age, 
physical condition, mental affection and so forth. 

The question is sometimes asked, whether the mind is 
conscious, or cognizes, every mental act, every mental af- 
fection. It may not be possible to prove this completely ; 
but from the analogy of consciousness as a knowing poiv- 
er to the other knowing powers of the mind, we ought to 



36 CONSCIOUSNESS. 

conclude that consciousness cognizes every mental act 
with a distinctness and completeness corresponding to the 
energy of the given mental act. We can not always, nor 
need we, recall a dimly conscious mental act. 

Its Products, — The product of consciousness is a 
simple cognition of whatever occurs within the mind's im- 
mediate horizon. This cognition, especially in natural 
consciousness, is not at first a knowledge of the qualities of 
any given mental act, not an understanding of the sigjiif- 
ica7ice of any given mental affection ; but a simple know- 
ing that this or that act has occurred in the mind. We 
must at this point carefully distinguish between the cog- 
nitions of consciousness and the judgments of the under- 
standing. The cognition of consciousness is well charac- 
terized by the words, "I know it." In these three little 
words we have the world's notion of consciousness. It is 
true, the infant does not clearly comprehend the rela- 
tion of "I" and "know" ; but the consciousness of the in- 
fant mind is an undeveloped consciousness. In a few short 
months, the "I" notion will connect itself with the "know" 
notion — consciousness has then' become self-consciousness. 
As Perception looks upon the external world, so self- con- 
sciousness now looks upon the internal world — the mind 
itself. 

Introspection vs. Perception, — A human being 
is, by common assent, the complex organization of the 
7?iaterial and the i7nmaterial. Consciousness, or introspec- 
tion, cognizes whatever takes place in the immaterial, spir- 
itual mind ; perception cognizes immediately and mediate- 
ly the material, non- spiritual existences with which the 
mind is associated in the external world. We should be 
more certain of internal acts and affections than of external 
things and attributes. Whether this be true, we can not 
tell without entering into a lengthy discussion. 

Introspection as the function of consciousness is in most 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 37 

people no more than a statural, almOvSt spontaneous know- 
ing ; but when in a course of proper mental development 
we turn in upon our own mind in order to study it, this 
introspection becomes more than a spontaneous knowing. 
Introspection differs from perception in that perception has 
a physical organism with which to perceive. The dis- 
tinction is one quite easily understood. In the case of 
perception, the physical organism is required as a medium 
between mass and mi?id. 

Relation to Attention, — Consciousness, like other 
active powers of the mind, is subject to attention. 

The child-mind consciousness is an almost spontmieous 
hiowing ; but as the mind matures into strength, con- 
sciousness becomes an attentive k?iowing of what takes 
place within the mind. I^ocke seems to have called this 
attentive consciousness Reflection. We shall resume this 
topic under Philosophic Consciousness. 

2. DEVKlvOPMKNT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Inter-relation of Sensation and Conscious- 
ness, — It is certain that the development of early con- 
sciousness is closely connected with sensation. Indeed, 
sensation appears to be the physical condition requisite for 
the activity of consciousness. When there is no sensation, 
as in a swoon, we say there is unconsciousness. By uncon- 
sciousness is meant that the mind does not at that moment 
cognize itself and its affections. 

The dying man's consciousness ceases to be cognitive in 
that moment when sensation ceases, — he is no longer con- 
scious as a psycho- physical being. 

Child-mind Consciousness, — The little child in 
his cradle possesses the power of consciousness. Infant 
consciousness, from what we may infer by analogy, is not 
a clear or complete knowing of self and its acts or states. 
Infant consciousness becomes more clear as the power of 



38 CONSCIOUSNEvSS . 

attention comes into activity. The little baby kiiows that 
it sees something when its eyes rest for a moment on the 
flickering candle flame. Child- mind consciousness may be 
described under the convenient terms Pre- consciousness and 
Self- consciousness. 

The earliest consciousness of child- life must be so indis- 
ti?ict that we can hardly imagine what it is like. Certain 
we are that it is not disti7ict enough to be remembered or to 
energize the mind into thought. It is utterly impossible 
to recall our consciousness of cradle years. 

By and by this indistinct knowing becomes distinct, and 
the child cognizes an active self. Self- consciousness in its 
first revelations must be a wondrous thing in the child 
mind. He has now become an individual <?^6>, a personal 
soul, launched upon life's seas. 

Peculiar Consciousness. — Under this heading we 
may include Sub-consciousness and A b7i07^mal Co?isciousness. 
It will not be within our limits to enter at length into these 
fields of discussion, but sufficient reason warrants ' a brief 
description of peculiar consciousness. 

Sub- consciousness denotes a knowing of under-current 
mental activities, such as dreams, somnambulism, &c. In 
our daily routine of activity, we seem to be sub-conscious 
of many items that do not enter into our brightest horizon. 
The dreamer dreams out a difficult mathematical solution, 
the student suddenly remembers a forgotten name : how 
are such things to be explained ? Surely the mind was 
not altogether unconscious of the mental activity implied 
in such results, and yet the consciousness was not suf- 
ficiently distinct to attract attention. We call this indis- 
tinct knowing Sub- consciousness, because it is like know- 
ing what goes on under the ordinary consciousness ; but 
when we have given a 7iame to it and described it, we 
have said all we can know with anything like certainty. 

Abnormal Consciousness is the accompaniment of certain 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 39 

abnormal states of the nervous system. By abnormal con- 
sciousness is therefore meant the consciousness as affected 
by such things as mania, nervous shock and too early in- 
trospection. 

In ma?iia the mind appears to be conscious of its own 
activity ; but it is not a consciousness which memory can 
connect with normal consciousness. The maniac is con- 
scious of his acts as is shown by his cunning conduct. 

A nervous shock seems to interrupt the inter-relation of 
the nervous organism and consciousness. And this inter- 
ruption disconnects some or all past experiences so that the 
person can not even recall his own name, or the profes- 
sion in which he has labored. 

When the nerve- pressure caused by a fall from some ele- 
vation, can be removed, consciousness again becomes nor- 
mal, and the person may recall the very circumstances of 
the fall. These phenomena indicate the close relation of 
body and mind, and especially the inter-relation of nerves 
and consciousness. 

Morbid consciousness is the result of too eager or too 
early self- inspection. This form of abnormal consciousness 
is often found in children of retired habits. lycft to them- 
selves a great deal, they learn to look inward long before 
their mental development warrants a neglect of outward 
looking. This is a form of consciousness that should be 
detected and cured. 

Vain persons, sensitive poetic persons, hypo-chondriacs 
and others also fall into this abnormal consciousness. So 
often is this noticed that language has denoted it by say- 
ing 'he is too self-conscious.' 

This form of abnormal consciousness may be cured by 
any course that keeps the person from gazing upon self. A 
vigorous exercise oi perception will often divert the morbid, 
self-conscious man from looking too much at his own man- 
ners, dress, words, feelings, &c. 



40 CONSCIOUSNESS. 

A morbid self- consciousness may lead to melancholy 
and even to insanity. 

Natural Consciousness, — The universal power of 
the mind to know its own acts and affections is known as 
Natural, or Primary Consciousness. This is a spontane- 
ous and necessary knowing of one's own mind. Natural 
consciousness does not concern itself with occult compari- 
sons and relations ; it does not concern itself with causes 
and laws so much as with the simple acts and states of 
mind. But as the mind matures, this natural consciousness 
also matures. It is, therefore, possible to develop natural 
consciousness into a more reflective, more attentive energy. 
When this development becomes marked, when it is the 
result of philosophic habits of reflection, it is known as 
Philosophic consciousness — the proud prerogative of su- 
perior minds. 

Philosophic Consciousness, — As already noticed, 
philosophic consciousness is the developed form of natural 
consciousness. It is of great pedagogical importance to 
develop a philosophic consciousness. For the student in 
Psychology it is of inestimable value — indeed, it is impos- 
sible to detect or estimate psychologic evidence unless the 
student has developed a thoroughly atte?itive and reflective 
consciousness. 

3. DOMAIN OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 



The cognitions of consciousness are immediate cognitions of 
present mental acts and affections. 

Immediate Cognition, — The cognition of conscious- 
ness is not a notion of ifzference or induction. 

What the mind knows by consciousness it knows im- 
mediately rather than mediately. In this respect it differs 
from memory and the understanding. 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 41 

This is what we should expect. If consciousness is the 
mind's absolute and final court of appeal ; if self-know- 
ing is the basis of responsibility and the voucher of per- 
sonal identity, then consciousness should not be liable to 
err because of mediate induction. 

Present Knowledge. — It is the function of con- 
sciousness to cognize only that which passes over its im- 
mediate horizon. Consciousness concerns itself only with 
what is. It knows nothing of what was or will be ; it 
knows nothing of what may be or might be ; it knows 
nothing of merely possible ideas and thoughts. 

Cognition of Mental Acts and States. — It is 
the function of consciousness to cognize mental acts and 
affections. 

The mind is able to perform many species of acts, and 
it is susceptible of many consequent states. Every act 
of the mind affects it in some way or other. All these acts 
the mind knows directly and immediately. 

We are thus conscious of perceiving, retaining, recall- 
ing, recognizing, imagining, comparing, rational concep- 
tion ; of our emotions, affections, and desires ; of deter- 
mining and executing. 

Indeed, it is not possible to name any mental act or af- 
fection of which the mind is not conscious. 

The cognition of some acts and of some affections is not 
as distinct, not as complete as that of other acts and af- 
fections ; but this does not affect the general law. The 
distinction indicated lies between spontaneous conscious- 
ness and attentive consciousness. At a dinner party we 
may notice some change in the appearance of a friend ; 
but the notice is an inattentive one, and so is the con- 
sciousness of such a notice. 

By and by some one else notices the change and speaks 
of it. We at once recall that we were indistinctly con- 
scious of the changed appearance. 



42 CONSCIOUSNKSS 



JO. 



Consciousness cognizes also the products of every mental func- 
tion. 

Cognition of Mental Products.. — Every power of 
the mind has 2^ function to perform. Consciousness cog- 
nizes not only the functional act, but also the functional 
product of every power. The mind is thus conscious of 
ideas gained by perception ; conscious of remembered ideas ; 
conscious of ideal concepts ; conscious oi judgments and 
beliefs ; conscious of hopes, fears, joys, sorrows, affec- 
tions ; conscious of choices, resolutions and the like. 

Consciousness must be such a necessary and inseparable 
concomitant of mental acts and their respective products. 
If this were not true, the mind would be little better off 
than that of the Brute. Indeed, consciousness is the 
power that constitutes the fundamental distinction be- 
tween human mind and animal mind. In the highly de- 
veloped consciousness the mind knows not only its own 
acts and the respective products, but it knows also the 
relations existent between one mental act and others, the 
relation between one mental product and others. Philo- 
sophic consciousness cognizes even the occult acts and af- 
fections of the mind ; cognizes the mental laws and class- 
ification ; personal identity and human freedom. 

Cognition of Internal Occasions. — The mind is 
conscious not only of mental acts and mental products but 
also of the internal occasion of any given act. Thus 
when we reason about some thought- relations we are con- 
scious of the relations upon which we reason. The mind 
is conscious of the primary ideas and primary truths of 
deductive reasoning. 

Sir William Hamilton argues that the mind is also con- 
scious of ^Ji;^'<s'r;2<2/ occasions. "Annihilate the object, and 
you annihilate the operation ; annihilate the consciousness 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 43 

of the object, and you annihilate the consciousness of the 
[mental] operation y 

The celebrated thinker, Hamilton, seems in this case not 
to have carefully distinguished between the two mental 
functions, introspection and perception. The object of in- 
trospection is always self'xw a certain act or state ; the ob- 
ject of perception is always an external mass. To say 
that we are conscious of the rose which we see, is to con- 
found a cognition of perception with a cognition of con- 
sciousness. Both are cognitions, and the mind knows 
things by either cognition alo7ie. 

II. 

Self-consciousness is the cognition of a mental act as our own. 

Cognition of Self. — The mind in consciousness also 
cognizes an act or affection as its ow7i. 

Indeed, we can not conceive of knowing unless we con- 
ceive of a knoiving agent. 

The knowing of self in any mental act is the basis of 
recognition in memor>^ 

We could not recognize any former conscious experi- 
ence as our own, unless we constantly identified our per- 
sonal self with the act remembered. Consciousness con- 
stantly cognizes self, and this uninterrupted cognition of 
self is our evidence oi personal identity. The thought be- 
fore us is one that reaches into Eternity. 

The infant, as has been stated, does not distinctly and 
connectedly cognize a self^a^ experiencing mental affections, 
and for this reason we can not recall our child-notions ; 
but as soon as the little child begins to say "I" we may 
be sure that conti?iuous consciousness of the ^^^ has come. 
From this consciousness the saiie mind can not free itself. 

The self cognized in any mental act may be more or 
less attentive to an external occasion. 
3 



44 CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Cognition and Sensation, — If sense contact is 
definite, the mind grasps definite suggestions and performs 
definite activity. Of this activity the mind will be also 
defiiiitely coriscious. If several senses are in simultaneous 
contact with the external world, the sensation produced 
in the sensorium by one sense may be so much less defi- 
nite than the sensation of another source that the mind is 
conscious only of the more definite result of its perceptions. 

This is what we are ready to expect when we remember 
the inter-relation of body and mind. The clock on our 
mantel may tick and tick when we are absorbed in some 
special work. Two sources of ideas are now open. We 
hear the ticking and we see the words. But we are more 
distinctly conscious of one act of sense-perception than of 
the other. 

Sometimes we are more conscious of a mental act con- 
nected with the eye ; sometimes we are more conscious of 
an idea suggested through the ear. 

We can readily think of many illustrations. The mani- 
fold effects upon consciousness in these cases are due to 
conditions of mind and conditions of body and the nature 
of objects perceived. 

T2, 

Self-consciousness is the final court of appeal in the study of our 
own mind. 

Necessary Inference, — If it is the function of con- 
sciousness to cognize mental acts and affections, mental 
products, etc., then we must rely upon consciousness as 
our final court of appeal in the study of our own minds. 
Consciousness in its reflective development will therefore 
be the authority to whom student and teacher must go for 
instruction in Psychology. When we state that testi- 
mony, observation, memory, and linguistic forms are also 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 45 

aids in studying the acts and products of the mind, we 
must ever remember that though all these conflict with the 
evidence of consciousness, our safest plan is to rely upon 
consciousness. 

If this deceives us we know nothing ; if attentive con- 
sciousness wrongly cognizes the mind's activity, then we 
can neither proven or disprove anything in the science of 
mind. 

But in order that consciousness may furnish distinct and 
complete evidence, we must develop it into thorough philo- 
sophic consciousness. 

4. CULTIVATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Spontaneous consciousness may be developed into voluntary 
consciousness by attentive introspection. 

Cultivation, — Attentive introspection is almost be- 
yond the patience or capacity of some minds ; but ordinarily 
any man may acquire more power in this respect. When 
we appeal to consciousness, our appeal should be a persis- 
tent looking in upon the working of ideas and thoughts. 
Some acts are momentary ; and, for this reason we must 
look at them again and again. Attentive introspection is 
more reliable and complete when we have full control of 
our feelings. Prejudice dare not enter into this introspec- 
tion. 

Our introspection should aim to take into view all the 
fu7ictions of the mind. We should note the birth and de- 
velopment of notions, thoughts, beliefs ; we should note 
the workings of the heart-life and of the will. Since Psy- 
chology is the fundamental basis of correct pedagogj^, it 
becomes doubly important to watch our own mental work- 
ings and those of children. 



46 CONSCIOUSNESS. 

5. ANOTHER VIEW OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 
14, 

STATEMENT. — Consciousness is a mental illumination in 
which each distinct mental act stands revealed as having occurred. 

Development, — In this definition consciousness is 
regarded as a mental light rather than as a mental power. 
According to the theory, consciousness is not an active 
cognitive power, but a passive receptivity ; not a volun- 
tary power capable of cultivation, but an involuntary con- 
dition capable of intelligent usage by the mind. The 
theory also excludes the distinctions indicated by the 
terms spontaneous and voluntary, between natural and 
philosophic consciousness. 

In other respects the theory does not practically conflict 
with the theory of our text. 

Perhaps as many persons adopt the latter view as adopt 
the text view. The latter is more commonly that of the 
popular mind. 

The phenomena of the mind may be explained intelligi- 
bly according to either theory ; but I believe that the text 
exposition is a better statement because it shows the fun- 
damental relation of consciousness to the other mental 
powers. 



6. TflenioX Smprbcusxs^ 



I. ATTENTION. 

15' 

Attention is a voluntary centralization of mental activity upon 
one object of thought. It is not a faculty, but a mental emphasis. 

Nature of Attention, — At this point we mu.st no- 
tice the relation of the three grand modes of mental ac- 
tivity, Intellect, Sensibility and Will, The respective 
products of these three comprehensive faculties are 
thoughts, feelings, volitions. 

The order of mental activity — a necessary and natural 
order — is thought, feeling, volition. There can be no 
mental activity unless there be something upon which this 
activity is exerted. The activity may be directed to this 
something by an effort of the will, or it may reach that 
something apart from an effort of the will. When there 
is activity upon some thought- object, and this activity is 
emphasized by an effort or impulse of the will, this empha- 
sis is what we mean by the word attention. Attention is 
a mental emphasis — ail effort of the will. 

Our mind, however, is often active upon something 
though we may not recall an effort of our will to centra- 
lize the mental act. Is there no attention, no mental em- 
phasis, no voluntary pressure upon such centralized men- 
tal activit)^ ? If so, can we find anything like involuntary 



48 ATTEJNTION. 

attention ? Let us see what is revealed by conscious- 
ness. 

Attention Always Voluntary, — If we examine 
some experience, we find mind acting upon something. 
Perhaps that something is very pleasing to the mind. 
Then we are interested — may be "all interest." This is 
sometimes called involuntary attention. Involuntary at- 
tention is however, merely a name and a very loose name 
too, for what we mean by ifiterest. What then is interest, 
and how does it differ from attention ? The mind is active 
upon something : the order of this activity is thought, 
feeling and volition. Thought- activity at once results in 
feeling more or less intense. This feeling is i^ike or dis- 
lyiKK. If it is lyiKK, then it is what we mean by the 
word INTEREST. Interest has its beginyiing in thought 
and its degree of inteyisity in feeling. Interest does not 
belong to volition — there is nothing like voluntary in- 
terest. The moment \\\tQ.rQst prompts to voluntary activi- 
ty, we have attention. 

Interest and Attention, — Interest hastens volun- 
tary effort, and prompts to such sudden volition that the 
mind takes no notice of the voluntary act. In this case 
the emotional activity is comparatively so intense as to shut 
out notice of voluntary effort or attention. There seems to 
be 710 effort of the tvill. If now the mind is to cease its 
activity upon something proposed, an effort of the will is 
necessary. If a child is interested in playing with mar- 
bles, it is quite an effort for the child to give up playing 
for some duty that mother may propose. In this volun- 
tary effort we detect the mind's preference or choice with 
regard to the something in hand. But what is this choice 
other than voluntary selection, a direction of the mind to 
one consideration exclusive of others ? We thus see that 
while interest leads to attention, it is never identical with 
attention. The question now meets us : can we do noth- 



ATTENTION. 49 

i)ig apart from voluntary effort, or direction,- or pressure, 
or emphasis ? 

Mental activity is more definite and accute under attention. 
Some mental acts become automatic. 

Automatic Action, — We shall more readily com- 
prehend the nature of automatic action if we keep in view 
the doctrine of reflex action. 

Reflex action may be illustrated by an experiment with 
ivory balls. An impulse is imparted to the first ball ; 
this impulse is transmitted through the intermediate balls 
and re -appears visibly in the rebound of the last ball. In 
a like manner mental impulse is transmitted through an 
intermediate series, a medium of nerve fibers, and re-ap- 
pears in physical activity. Examples of such physical 
activity are walking, talking, playing on an instrument, 
etc., etc. If imparted impulse could be so absolutely 
transferred into nervous organization as to lose it's associ- 
ation with mind, its origin, we could speak oi absolute au- 
tomatic activity. This we can not prove. Biit relative 
automatic action there is. This we know and are able to 
prove. Action thus transferred into the physical system 
can be performed with practically no voluntary effort, or, 
in other words, without any apparent attention. We can, 
however, not predicate absolute absence of attention even 
in automatic activity. I^ateron we shall show how much 
voluntary effort or attention is involved in dreams, insan- 
ity, disease, somnambulism and brute mind. 

Mental Value, — Every one knows how much more 
definite and acute mental activity is under an effort of the 
will. This attention, this power of voluntary emphasis 
upon mental activity, is perhaps the criterion of genius, 
talent, power and success. Attention is a conscious men- 



50 ATTENTION. 

tal function. The function is executed by our voluntary 
nature ; and, at the moment of executive effort, the mind 
ivS conscious of it and we can say "I know it." The man 
who would be a definite and an acute thinker, the man 
who would not live in a dim haze of mental activity, 
must cultivate this function of his voluntary power. Un- 
less we cultivate our power of attention, we shall never 
be able to concentrate our mental life ; it will be a life of 
mere impulse or interest. It pays especially the student to 
acquire the power of almost absolute mental emphasis. 
Such emphasis, such attention, will make the genuine 
historian, linguist, naturalist, scientist, mathematician, 
logician and philosopher. Accuracy and profundity will 
then characterize our scholarship. Methods of cultivating 
attention must be based either upon interest or upon con- 
scious voluntar}^ effort. 

Any act of attention is an act of mental transfer. This transfer 
implies a positive effort and a negative effort. 

Process. — Attention has a positive and a negative 
phase. The two phases succeed each other as a logical 
necessity. Duty or interest or prudence or even necessity 
may prompt the mind to voluntary activity. By this 
voluntary effort, the mind's activity is transferred from 
other considerations to a single special consideration. 
The transfer implies two steps — an effort to remove vol- 
untary pressure from something, and an effort to exert 
voluntary pressure upon a chosen single thought -object. 
The former effort is negative — the latter, positive. It is 
the latter effort of the will, prompted by reasonable or 
pleasing motives, that we mean by attention or mental 
emphasis. Attention might, then, be called a continued 
or prolonged volition — a volition that centralizes mental 



A T T K N T T O N . 5 1 

activity upon one thought- object. Attention, therefore, 
involves the activity of our whole mind ; but i.s not com- 
plete before the effort of our voluntary nature is exerted. 
Attention involves intellectual apprehension of a possible 
transfer of mental activity from all other considerations to 
the one chosen by reflection or prompted by feeling ; it 
involves feelings of like or dislike ; and finally it involves 
a volition. The last effort, that of volition, is the chief 
characteristic of attention. It remains for us to find 
whether the mind can really attend to one or more thought- 
objects at the same time. 

CENTRALIZATION AND TRANSFER. 

The mind can not really attend to more than one object of 
thought at the same time, but passes from one object to the other 
with remarkable rapidity. 

One Object. — This can be shown b}^ many illustra- 
tions. We must first clearly distinguish between sense - 
objects and thought-objects. We may see or hear or feel 
or smell or taste more than one object at the same time ; 
the things thus apprehended are objects of sense- apprehen- 
sion. When we make a7ij object of sense- apprehension 
the topic for continued and emphasized thought, such ob- 
ject becomes a thought-object. The mind can not attend 
to more than one such thought object, nor need it even in 
reasoning or judging. 

Illustration. — Let a boy stand at one end of a black 
board and another boy at the other end of the board. 

The class can, at the same moment, see both boys at the 

blackboard. This is a sense-perception. If both boys 

speak at the same time, 3^ou can hear the two voices. 

This is a sense-perception. Now try to attend to the ex. 

planations of both boys at the same moment. This would 

3" 



52 ATTKNTION. 

make their explanations not objects oi sight or hearing on- 
ly, but also objects of thought activity. The solutions are 
two thought- objects, and we can make only one process an 
object of our attention. In other words, we can put men- 
tal emphasis upon only one solution. If one or both solu- 
tions are familiar to the listener, he may keep pace with 
both boys, for he need only notice whatever unfamiliar 
step may be taken by either boy. By practice it is pos- 
sible to gain such skill in listening to two such explanations 
as to enable a teacher to attend to both apparently at the 
same time. He is able to do this, because he has acquired 
the ability of rapid transfer of mental activity. Such trans- 
fer involves cultivation of memory and cultivation of our 
voluntary nature. Practice lies at the basis of this un- 
usual skill. It may not be worth very much. 

Another Illustration : The mind can not really attend to 
more than one object of thought at the same time. We 
can not pay attention to the four voices of a harmony with 
anything like distinctness. We may hear four voices; but 
this is not making the four voices objects of a reflective ex- 
amination. When we wish to discern clearly the quali- 
ties, etc., of the voices, we center our discerning process 
upon 07ie of the four voices and upon one only. The mind 
may be active upon several objects at the same time ; but 
such activity is not centralized, focused, emphasized activ- 
ity. The question here to be decided is whether activity 
of the mind can be emphasized upon two or more lines of 
thought. Such is not our common experience, and there 
is no necessity for it. The mind can pass so rapidly from 
one subject to another that i7ista?itaneous emphasis upon 
each transfer of mental activity enables men to perform 
most remarkable feats of equilibrism or most remarkable 
executions upon a musical instrument. Nor is there any 
strength in the claim that such rapidity of attention is 
impossible in articulate speech. If the physical organ can 



ATTENTION. 53 

perform such rapid feats, then surely the mind in control 
of the body must be just as rapid a causative antecedent. 
But the question recurs, are there no cases of mental 
activity in which we must hold two objects of thought be- 
fore our mind ? lyCt us propose about the only difQcult 
case, — the process of comparison, a function of our judg- 
ment. 

Must the mind dwell at the same moment upon the two 
objects compared in order to form a comparison ? Pick 
up several objects, and do this out of sight of the person 
to be tested. I^et the class watch the head of the person 
when he compares the two objects. The observers will 
notice a rapid transfer of the organs of vision from one 
object to the other. The transfer of the eye is repeated 
several times and can be easily detected. 

This transfer of the eye is caused by an ajitcccdcnt trans- 
fer in the mental process. In other words, the mind 
passes from one object to the other with remarkable ra- 
pidity. In natural philosophy, the experiment of the 
color-wheel shows a similar result. A rapid revolving of 
the wheel gives the effect of a single color. A rapid trans- 
fer of attention has the same effect upon the process of 
comparison. Both objects seem to be before the mind at 
the same moment. This same transfer can be noticed 
when one object is absent, and when its memory-image 
takes the place in comparison. 



PART FIRST.— INTELLECT. 



A. PERCEPTION. 
19. 

Perception is that mental faculty by which we gain a knowledge 
of the external world through the senses. 

A previous induction showed that Intellect was presen- 
tative, representative, reflective and intuitional. It was 
further found that under these four characters of the In- 
tellect there were six distinct and voluntary powers. The 
first of these is Pkrckption. This is the presentative 
power of the mind. We could not know anj^thing of the 
world around us, constituted as we are, had God not en- 
dowed us with se7ise-perception. 

The Physical Medium, — The mind, however, uses 
the physical organization of our body as a presenting 
medium. Our body is endowed with a nervous system. 
This nervous system, because of its intimate association 
with mind, is capable of sensation ; it thus becomes a 
medium of contact with the external world. Just what 
this intimate association of the mind with the body is, we 
can not tell ; but we do know that there is such an asso- 
ciation. We can not say that the mind fills up the bod}' 
with its own spiritual substance ; but we do know that 
the mind controls the body, fills it with mental impulses, 
makes it capable of sensation and makes the bod}^ serve 



P K R C E P T I O N. 55 

the mind. The inductive examination of Perception re- 
solves itself into several distinct views. The word per- 
ception may denote three of these views. We may mean 
by this word the faculty of perception, or the p7vcess of 
perception, or the product of perception. The word per- 
ception is derived from two lyatin words, per and capio, to 
take by means of. It means, then, to take by means of 
the senses. 

PERCEPTION AS A FACULTY. 

The existence of this power is affirmed by consciousness. 
The possibility of its process has been indicated above. 
As a power, its function is clearly distinct and voluntarj^ 
when used in its designed sphere. Far more difficult is 
it to trace the process involved. 

The Four-I/ink Perceptive Process. — This topic 
proposes to us the questions, how^ do we come to know 
the existence and character of the world round about us ; 
how do we know our own body as extended ; how^ do we 
know that there is such a thing as a flower, or tree, or 
stone ? Several succesive links make up this process. 
These links are not chronologically, but logically succes- 
sive. Each antecedent link is causative and each subse- 
quent link is resultant. Ahe following is an enumeration 
of the links in the perceptive process : 

PROCESS OF PERCEPTION. 

zo. 

The process of perception is a succession of four logical links ; i. 
Contact. 2. Sensation. 3. Suggestion. 4. Percept. 

Sense- Contact, — The bod}^ comes in contact with 
some object in the external world. There are five sense- 
gateways or avenues for this contact. We come in con- 



56 P B R C K P T I O N . 

tact with objects through the eye, ear, tongue, nose and 
the general sense of touch. The contact makes us con- 
scious of resistance, as when we touch a board. This re- 
sistance gives us the notion of the outward or external 
existence of the object touched. Contact of the nervous 
system results in sensation. 

Sensation, — Sensation is an affection of the nervous- 
system. It is the result of contact and is not of the nature 
of thought. It might be called simple physical feeling. 
The nervous system animated by mind is the seat of this 
sensation. A dead man might possess the five organs of 
sense, a complete system of nerve fibers ; but there could 
be no sensation in such a body. When the soul has 
flown, sense apprehension and sensation cease. Yet we 
cannot say that sensation occurs, strictly speaking, in the 
mind. Sensation occurs in the body. This body be- 
comes a medium of suggestion to the mind. That this is 
true, we know. Why it is true, we do not know. 

Suggestion. — Sensation in the nervous organization 
is followed almost instantaneously by an influence upon 
mind. This influence we shall call suggestion. The 
mind is provided with a sort of electric alarm system. If 
anything touches the alarm, the mind is at once ready to 
look out for a message from the external world. And 
such a message will come. This message may be called 
a PE^RCKPT. What then is a percept ? 

A Percept, — A percept is the mental cognition of the 
product of a perceptive process. It may be an image or 
an idea or a notion. Which of these it .shall be depends 
upon the avenue of perception and upon the object per- 
ceived. The percept is the last link in the process of per- 
ception. It is the product of this process. This percept 
occurs in the mind. It is strictly a mental product and 
includes several distinct items. What does the mind re- 
ceive in a percept ? 



PERCKPTION. 57 



ZI. 



A percept includes the cognition of three things : i. A sensation. 
2. Our body. 3. An external object. 

A Percept and Its Cognitions. — Here are three 
cognitions corresponding to the notions of what, whkrk 
and WHY. In this percept the mind is conscious of a sen- 
sation and intuitively knows this sensation to be in the 
body. The mind thus becomes conscious of a body — our 
body. By the location of more than one sensation in dif- 
ferent parts of the body the mind becomes conscious of 
the body as extended, as occupying space. It is thus that 
we learn to know our own body. And as a sequel, the 
mind demands the cause of the sensation in the body. 
Thus results the cognition of the something that touches 
the body. In this way we can learn of the existence of 
the objects we touch in the external world. Of course, 
we can touch such object by one of our five senses. If, 
however, the external object presented no resistance to our 
nervous organization in the contact, there would be no 
cognition of that something that caused the sensation. 
This is easily seen in an ordinary touch. The question 
presents itself, do we, in a percept, know only the ex- 
istence of an object or also c^ri^in properties of the exist- 
ing object? If so, is the cognition of these properties 
an immediate product or a product of reflective inference ? 
This question will be discussed under another proposi- 
tion. We proceed to the conditions necessar}^ for the 
performance of the function of perception. 

The function of perception requires : i. A sentient being. 2. 
Sense organisms. 3. External, sensible objects. 4. Contact. 5. 
Sensation. 

Fundamental Conditions, — A skntiknt being is 
a being capable of perceiving. The angels are .sentient 



5^ PKRCKPTION. 

beings; but they are not endowed with sense- organisms. 
They can perceive without such organs. Situated and 
created as we are, ive need such organisms to be sentient 
beings. We can not perform the functions of perception 
without using sknsk - organisms. These organs are 
adapted to our environments and our environments are 
adapted to our organs. The external world is a sknsibi^K 
WORLD. All the objects can be brought into contact with 
our body by sense- apprehension. Created as we are, with 
these organs, we could have no sensation, were there no 
external world. Nor could there be sensation without 
some CONTACT; for the function of perception would not 
have a starting point. The circuit would not be com- 
plete. This contact must result in sknsation. As long 
as soul and body keep together, contact of the tw^o will 
always result in sensation and this sensation will alw^ays 
result in a percept. There may be extraordinary condi- 
tions of our body and mind, vSuch as presentiment and 
somnambulism, under which the soul perceives indepen- 
dently of sense- organisms. 

PERCEPT KNO WLEDGE. 

In a percept we gain knowledge of external objects in their pri- 
mary and secondary qualities. 

Percept Knowledge, — A percept is an idea of an 
external object. We do not know the object only as an 
external existence, but as having such and such qualities. 
The world around us would not help us in our life mission, 
if we could not know these qualities. Accordingly, God 
has so made our mind as to cognize external existences in 
their qualities. Sometimes the process is intuitive, and 
sometimes it is inferential. Instead of the words immedi- 



PKRCEPTION. 59 

ate and mediate, some writers use the phrases a priori and 
a posteriori. A quaHty is termed objective when it has an 
actual existence in the object cognized. A quality is 
termed subjective when it has existence only as a sensa- 
tion. Extension is an objective quality ; flavor is a sub- 
jective quality. It is perhaps best to refer all qualities 
to three bases, and to make three consequent classes. The 
three bases for classification may be put as follows : i. 
lyocated sensations. 2. RCvSisted sensations. 3. Pure vSen- 
sation. 

ClassiAcatioii of Qualities. — Accordingly we 
shall find primary qualities, primo- secondary qualities and 
secundo- secondary qualities. Primo-secondary and se- 
cundo- secondary qualities are spoken of as both secon- 
dary. Primary qualities are such as are essential to the 
very existence of matter. Secondary qualities are only 
accidental. The removal of secondary qualities does not 
annihilate matter, though it change its form and uses. 
Primary qualities have a distinctly objective existence 
and produce only localized sensatio7is. Primo-secondary 
qualities, though not essential to the existence of matter, 
have never-the-less an objective existence as well as a sub- 
jective existence. Secundo -secondary qualities have no 
objective reality. They are sensations pure and simple, 
vSubjective and physiological. 

The three classes of qualties may be represented by : i . 
Extension. 2. Elasticity. 3. Flavor. 

The nature of the preceding discussion is not so much 
a matter of psychology as of physics ; but the discussion 
is necessary because our environments demand that we be 
acquainted with their qualities. 

We shall now add several propositions to sum up the 
preceding discussion. These propositions ma}" require 
further special discussion. 



6o PKRCKPTION. 

2S4* 

Primary 'qualities become known as essential and objective; 
and the percept cognition is immediate. 

Primo-secondary qualities, though objective, become known only 
through sense-resistance and are called mechanical. 

26, 

Secundo-secondary qualities become known only as sensations. 
They are subjective and phsysiological. 

The three classes of qualities are determined by the following 
bases : i. Located sensations. 2. Resisted sensations. 3. Pure 
sensations. Ex. Extension ; elasticity ; flavor. 

I/OCated Sensations. — The derivation and enumer- 
ation of qualities depend on a proper application of enu- 
merated bases. We come in contact with external objects 
and feel sensations in different parts of our own body. 
We know these sensations do not belong to the same lo- 
cality of our body, and thus learn to know our body as be- 
ing extended — as having Kxtknsion. If now we touch 
objects round about us, we find these bodies extended just 
like our own body. It is thus we learn the objective and 
essential, primary quality of extension. From this notion 
of extension, all the primary qualities can be dkduckd. 
From the fact that an extended object may be placed in 
two non-adjacent spaces together equal to the one con- 
tinuous space, and so on, we deduce the quality of divis- 
iBii^iTY.' An object having extension occupies a certain- 
amount of space. From this fact we deduce the quality 
of sizK. When we notice the closeness of adjacent par- 
ticles, we come to find the quality of dknsity. From the 



PRRCI5PTION. 6l 

fact that an object has extension in three directions, we 
know the quality of figure. When we come to find that 
the thus and thus extended object can be placed within 
less and less space, we obtain the quality of compressi- 
BII.ITY. We notice the easy or difficult motion of par- 
ticles that make up the examined object, and find mobili- 
ty. We notice that objects always occupy this or that 
place, and thus come to know the quality of situa- 
tion. The following is a resultant enumeration of pri- 
mary qualities : i. Extension. 2. Divisibility. 3. Size. 
4. Density. 5. Figure. 6. Compressibility. 7. Mobili- 
ty. 8. Situation. These qualities may be called mathe- 
matical. 

Resisted Sensation, — A great many qualities of 
bodies are determined from the degree of resistance op- 
posed to our touch. It is in this way that we subdivide 
COHKSION, REPUivvSioN and inertia. From cohesion, 
for example, we derive soft, fluid, brittle, flexible, smooth, 
etc., and their contraries. All such qualities are primo- 
secondary. They are learned mediately, by inference. 
They have two phases, being objective and subjective. 
They may be called mechanical and accidental. 

Pure Sensations. — A great many qualities are mere 
sensations — affections of our nervous organisms. These 
qualities have no objective existence in bodies, except 
that these bodies cause them in our organisms. We speak 
of the flavor of an orange or the fragrance of a rose ; but 
the flavor and fragrance are rather names of sensations 
than of objective qualities in the orange and the rose. To 
this class belong such qualities as flavor, fragrance, sound, 
color, savor, chill, fever and a host of others. These 
qualities are, then, subjective and are known only as sen- 
sations. We cognize them fy inference and call them phy- 
siological. 



62 pe:rce:ption. 

Adaptation to hife, — Having seen what some of 
the qualities of the external world are, we shall proceed 
to show that our organs of sensation, or of sense-appre- 
hension, are exactly adapted to our environments. If this 
were not the case, we should not be able to carry out our 
life mission. Safety could not be insured for an hour ; 
comfort and happiness would be but poorly provided for. 
Indeed, it is question whether we could remain alive for 
an hour, did we not have the power of cognizing external 
objects in their essential and accidental qualities. Every- 
thing we do seems to imply our knowledge of these qual- 
ities. Without knowing there could be no material pro- 
gress and no invention. Without them re.spiration and 
nutrition could not be healhty. Without them our phys- 
ical and spiritual life would be confusion. 

28, 

Our present environments demand five distinct senses : Touch, 
Sight, Hearing, Smelling and Tasting. 

jPive Senses, — We could not claim adaptation of con- 
stitution, if we had less than five senses, and we could not 
use a sixth under the present condition of things. God 
has not given us too few or too many senses. Our imme- 
diate relation to the objects around us makes it necessary 
to use the sense of touch. It makes a difference, too, 
whether we can know objects at some distance from us. 
Touch will not help us here. We need the sense of 
SIGHT to tell us there is a mountain in the distance, or an 
approaching evil. 

Something, however, may obstruct our vision ; or, the 
medium of vision, the light, may be taken from us, as at 
night. It becomes necessary to know things thus hidden 
from us. Comfort, safety, happiness, and life may de- 
pend iipon our knowing. Hence, we need the sense of 
HEARING, so that by the character of sound we may de- 



PERCEPTION. 63 

termine our surroundings and. our relations to these sur- 
roundings. This sense is exactly fitted to inform us 
about the physical and the spiritual world around us. 
Sound thus becomes a medium of interchanging thought 
and feeling. Through the sense of hearing, the world 
becomes one great brotherhood. 

But we need still another sense or two. Poisonous 
gases find their way into the lungs, and, through respira- 
tion, produce their deadly effect upon our life. On the 
other hand, the sweet fragrance of plant and flower, the 
savor of precious food and the pure, fresh air could not 
enter into our sensation, were we not endowed with a 
special sense to receive these sensations. For these and 
other reasons, we need the sense of SMEi.iy. 

Nutrition requires another sense to stand like a guar- 
dian at the entrance to physical life and growth. The 
sense of smell is also of use here, but does not perform 
all necessary functions. We need the sense of TASTE to 
guide us in our choice of food and drink. 

Thus we see that all the relations of our life to the ex- 
ternal world are taken into account. 

In a future world, our nature and surroundings will be 
different. We may not there need several of our present 
senses, and God may provide us with others to meet our 
changed conditions. The subject can be continued at 
length. 

The reciprocal relation of body and mind renders sense-appre- 
hension possible as long as consciousness remains. 

Body and Mind, — Mental science has of late years 
been enriched by vast researches in physiology. There 
is no more beautiful subject in psychology than the one 
before us now. How can we know anything of the world 



64 PKRCBPTION. 

around us ? How can our body become the medium of in- 
formation between mind and matter ? What are the condi- 
tions of proper information ? What may interfere with, or 
interrupt, or forever break up this intimate relation ? Such 
are some of the questions involved. We start out by stat- 
ing that the brain is the medium of this reciprocal relation. 
The brain has been proved to be the prksknck- chamber 
of the soul. It is at once the seat of mental life and of phy- 
sical action. Being the seat of the mental faculties, 
the brain is a medium of mental modifications ; and 
being the center of nervous activity and muscular motion, 
it becomes the mkss age:- origin for every department of 
physical life. We know that this reciprocal relation is 
very intimate, and we know it from effects that invariably 
result in a reciprocal activity. If the body is in an ab- 
normal condition, mental activity suffers a corresponding 
modification. If the mind is under tension, the various 
bodily functions will be in exact sympathy. 

Xemperaments, — It is this relation of the body to' 
the mind that gives us the various temperaments, such as 
sanguine, nervous, bilious and phlegmatic. It is this in- 
timate relation that causes sorrow and sadness to reveal 
themselves in eyes and facial lines. Thought — feeling — 
volition, — all are written in unmistakable ^lines upon face 
and figure and motion. It is upon this reciprocal relation 
that the phrenologist and the physiognomist calculate. 
Upon this relation the teacher, the orator and the physi- 
cian count. Indeed, there is no end to the joys and sor- 
rows of life that result from a normal or an abnormal con- 
dition of this reciprocal relation. An illustration of this 
relation comes from Russia. Four alleged criminals were 
condemned to death. These men were considered proper 
subjects for experiment. Two of them were assigned to 
a sleeping apartment in which several men had died with 
the cholera. The new men slept in the room without 



PERCEPTION. 65 

knowing that such had been a fact ; but received no harm. 
The other two were assigned to another room, fresh and 
clean, in which no cholera case had ever been ; but they 
were told that several men had just died of cholera in that 
room, and that this was to be their death, their punish- 
ment. In two hours the two men died of cholera. This 
illustration is certainly most interesting. The student 
will readily find many more illustrations. 

The Sensorium and Consciousness. — This re- 
lation and the activity of the senses are in inseparable asso- 
ciation with consciousness. Take away all sense- activity 
and you take away all consciousness ; but when sense- con- 
sciousness is gone, sense- apprehension is also impossible. 
This seems to be the case in 2i swoon, in the magnetic state 
and under the influence of certain drugs. These abnor- 
mal conditions interrupt the function of consciousness, 
and at the same moment prevent the mind from receiving 
messages from the external world. In some of these con- 
ditions, respiration and circulation may be uninterrupted, 
and in others life itself seems extinct. Death is an ab- 
solute interruption. Some cause or other interrupts bodi- 
ly functions, the senses one after another lose their grasp 
upon the external w^orld, and when the last sense-gate- 
way, hearing, is closed, consciousness is blotted out and 
sensation forever ceases. 

The inter-communion of body and soul is one of the 
most intricate arrangements in the wide spheres of God's 
omniscient wisdom and goodness. 

That our life may be in most intimate acquaintance 
with the external world, God has fitted our senses to per- 
form each a peculiar function. Each sense has its pecu- 
liar function : touch informs the mind of near external 
objects ; sight, also of those at a distance ; hearing of 
sounds ; smelling and tasting, of the chemical properties ■ 
of bodies. 



66 PERCEPTION. 

That we may know the exact value of each sense, we 
should know with what items each sense furnishes the 
the mind in our relation to the external world. 

SENSE IN FORM A TION. 

30, 

Touch furnishes the mind with immediate and inferential cog- 
nitions of extension and several secondary qualities of bodies. 

Touch, — Our hand is the special organ of touch, 
though this sense has its avenues in almost every fiber of 
animated bodies. The hand is especially adapted to grasp 
and to touch. When our hand touches some external 
object, we experience a sensation. If we had no other 
sense to give us information of the cause of this sensation, 
we might not know whether the caicse was Z7i our own 
body or outside of our body. 

But when there is more than one sensation felt in our 
body, we intuitively locate these sensations as here or 
there. This locating of sensations gives us the immediate 
cognition of an extended body — of our body as having 
extensio7i. By a second trial we may in a like manner 
cognize other external objects as possessing extension. 

This is an inferential process. The primo- secondary 
qualities are also cognized either immediately or mediate- 
ly through the sense of touch. 

We come in contact with snow, and cognize it as soft ; 
because it resists our pressure or touch so little. We 
touch water and know it is fluid. We touch iron and 
know it is hard. This process, of course, can be carried 
out at length. Through the sense of tou.ch, then, modi- 
fied, perhaps, by muscular effort and corrected by an in- 
ferential process, we become acquainted with near exter- 
nal objects. 



tKRCEPTlON. 67 



3I' 



Sight furnishes the mind with immediate cognitions of color, 
extension, figure, distance and direction. 

Sight. — The eye is the organ of vision. Its retina is 
a net- work of nerve fibers upon which an image of exter- 
nal objects is spread out. This image occasions an im- 
mediate percept, and is made up of several distinct notions : 
color, extension and figure. Why a certain object causes 
this image to be of a certain color, may not be so easy to 
explain. Color is evidently a sensation in the organ of 
vision. The external cause of the sensation may contain 
qualities or motions that produce the sensation known as 
color. How this cause acts we can not say. One object 
may cause a greater wave-length of light than another, 
and thus produce violet or red. Perhaps there are several 
kinds of nerve-fibers in the retina, so as to produce the 
sensations of primary colors. A different degree of ener- 
gy in the fibers would produce the mixed colors. These 
questions must be decided by physical experiments. Our 
vision in activity does not reveal the explanation. But 
one thing is certain — color is an immediate percept. The 
little infant never has a different experience from that of 
adults. The adult may have learned by experience to dis- 
tinguish the various modifications of color, but this fact 
does not alter the conclusion that the percept of color is im- 
mediate. ' 

Extension. — But do we at the same time cognize ex- 
tension ? Color is always associated with an extended 
body, and extension is the i?idispe?isadle condition of the 
external cause of color. An object that has practically 
no extension gives us practically no impression of color. 
This proves that if there is no extension, there can be no 
color for want of a material caiise of the color sensation. 

A certain portion of the retina is affected when we use 
4 



68 PKRCEPTION.- 

our eye. Remembering that light travels in straight lines 
and that it meets the eye in that way, we are led to con- 
clude that without an extended object there could be 
no sensation of color. 

Of course, in the senses of taste or smell, a certain por- 
tion of retina is also colored ; but these are not parallel 
cases. In the first place, these latter sensations come 
through a different medium, and serve a different purpose 
in our physical economy. In the second place, the af- 
fected portion of the retina is a definite portion clear and 
distinct ; while, in the case of the other senses, the por- 
tions affected are not definite portions. There is a third 
consideration of some weight in this examination. The 
sensations produced in the other senses are the results of 
^notion of particles in the external cause of the sensations, 
so that either an air wave or some substance carried by 
this air wave reaches the surface of the respective organs 
of sense. But, in the sense of sight, no such thing can 
be proved. 

The sensation of color, coming from some object ex- 
tended in space, is just as decided when there is no motio?i 
at all in the objective cause. The sight percept of exten- 
sion seems, therefore, to be an immediate cognition ; 
for extension is the inseparable condition of the existence 
of color- causing particles. These particles being materi- 
al, it seems impossible to conceive of color apart from sur- 
face extension. 

Figure, — Does sight furnish the mind with an imme- 
diate cognition of figure ? Remembering that light has its 
varying degrees and shades when reflected from objects, 
we conclude that these shades produce sensations in the 
retina, suggestive of tri?ial extension or figure. That we 
do know trinal extension through the sense of sight, is a 
fact of experience ; but is the knowledge immediate or 
mediate ? Is it not a matter of inference — a mediate cog- 



PERCEPTION. 69 

nition ? Adults see objects and never doubt that the cog- 
nition of figure is immediate. But we can not prove that 
the child has had a different experience ; and thus come 
to conclude that the cognition of figure by sight was al- 
ways an immediate cognition. The sense of touch, of 
course, corrects our cognition of the exact figure. 

Distance, — Sight furnishes the mind with an imme- 
diate cognition of distance. Just how this happens may 
be difficult to explain. When light falls upon some ob- 
ject of sight, the rays of light are reflected upon our eye 
wifk degrees of inte^isity varying with the distance of the ob- 
ject. The little child thus receives a corresponding reti- 
nal impression that gives him the percept of distance. The 
percept is also aided by the angle of vision made when the 
rays of light from some object meet the eye. This angle 
varies with the distance. The child does not perceive 
the exact distance. This is a matter of later inference, a 
matter of comparison. The senses aid each other in every 
percept, and the adult learns to compare these percepts 
until he reaches a comparatively correct estimate of the 
distance of some object. A number of items enters the 
proof that this cognition is an immediate percept, i. In 
adult life we see objects distant from us. 2. The little 
child appears to have the same impression ; for he reaches 
out from himself when he wishes to reach anything be- 
yond him. 3. Animals, too, in their earliest movements, 
conform their movements to this impression of distance, 
and their appreciation is pretty accurate. 4. It is no 
proof to the contrary that we are often mistaken in the 
exact distance. This is not the absence of a distance - 
percept. It only shows that we have learned unerringly 
to judge the exact amou7it of the distance originally per- 
ceived. These are two wholly different considerations. 
Remarkable accuracy can be acquired in judging this 
amount of distance. A traveler, accustomed to varying 



yo PEiRCKPTlON. 

densities of the atmosphere and to varying amounts of 
light, can tell almost exactly how far he is from a given 
object. 

Direction. — Sight furnishes the mind with an imme- 
diate cognition of direction. This is not so difficult to 
decide. The little child, as well as the adult, acts as if 
he knew direction. The child may not be able to give a 
name to the direction ; but he knows it as a percept, and 
this percept is immediate. The muscular adjustments of 
the eye at once give the idea of direction. 

Young animals act in the same way when they try to 
avoid another animal or some supposed danger. There 
seems never to be any deception in the percept of direction 
when it comes from vision. 

When we look at an object, each eye holds an image ; but we 
see only one object, and we see the object erect though the retinal 
images are inverted. 

One Object. — Two images have undoubtedly been 
formed when we look at an object. Bach eye contains an 
image of the object viewed. Bach is an exact transcript. 
Why do we not see objects double ? A number of expla- 
nations have been offered. The only plausible explana- 
tion is, that the centres of the two retinal images satisfy a 
7nechanical requirement for single vision. When this exact 
relation is interfered with, there may be double vision. 
How the two images are fused into the effect of a single 
one, is a mental phenomenon perhaps forever hidden from 
our inspection. 

Tiie Object Erect. — The retinal images are inverted 
by a crossing of the rays of light coming from an object. 
Why, then, should the odject looked at not seem inverted ? 
The inverted image is a fact, and is the condition of cor- 
rect perception. The inverted image is only a sensation 



PE^RCKPTION. 71 

suggesting a percept to the mind. This percept does not 
depend for its character upon the retinal image as much 
as it depends upon an inference based upon micscidar ad- 
justment of the organ of sight. 

Hearing furnishes the mind with immediate and inferential cog- 
nitions of sound, causal existence, distance and direction. 

Hearing, — The ear is especially adapted to catch 
sound. It is the organ of hearing. When some external 
object is in motioii, the motion, or vibratioji, causes an air- 
wave to strike upon the tympanum of the ear. A chain 
of tiny. ear-bones transfei^s the impulse to the internal ear. 
A water wave here beats its value upon the auditory 
nerves and produces a sensation. This sensation is what 
we mean by sound. Sound is nothing more than a sensa- 
tion. The sensation suggests a percept of sound to the 
mind, and this parce^t is immediate. Sound is an imme- 
diate percept obtained through the sense of hearing. By 
immediate we mean that no process of inference based on 
comparison is necessary. The infant in the cradle has 
the same imm^diats percept of sound, though it can not 
always tell what causes it or whether any*thing causes it, 
or whether the cause is in its own body or some distant 
body. The intensity of the air-wave decides the loudness 
of sound, and many modifications in the external causes 
result in the various qualities of sound. 

Causal Existence. — The infant in the cradle hears 
a sound of a passing wagon, but can not tell that it is a 
wagon. Later on, the child sees the ivagon and hears a 
sound. By associating the two percepts, those of sight 
and of hearing, the child learns to know that the moving 
wagon is the cause of sound. But this is a matter of ex- 
perience ; and, hence, we call the cognition of the causal 



72 PK R C KPT I ON . 

existence an infere7itial cogyiition. It is thus that we cog- 
nize all the causes of all sound, until we can readily tell 
the voice of a friend, the peal of thunder and the crash of 
destruction. 

Distance, — But do we know distance through the 
sense of hearing ? The little child can not tell the distance 
of a storm cloud by hearing the sound of thunder. An 
adult can not always tell the distance of a ringing bell. 
The cognition of distance, through the sense of hearing, 
is, therefore, not a cognition of exact distance but of dis- 
tance simply. Thus far the cognition is immediate. Child 
and man alike have an immediate cognition that the 
sounding object has some distance ; but only later infer- 
ence can determine the amount of this distance. The cog- 
nifion of more or less exact distance is a matter of com- 
parison and practice. Napoleon could thus distinguish a 
cannonade from a thunder peal. The Indians are re- 
markable for their acquired power in this respect. In our 
every-day life, it is of importance to be able to acquire this 
ability. It saves tim,e and labor and concern. It adds to 
our comfort, readily satisfies our curiosity, and hastens the 
acquirement of information. 

Direction. — The sense of hearing also furnishes the 
mind with the cognition of direction. Is this an imme- 
diate or an inferential cognition ? The infant hears a 
sound, but can not always, perhaps not usually, tell 
whence the sound comes. This inability may be ex- 
plained by the fact that the child has not yet learned how 
to use the organ of hearing. It seems evident from the 
existence of an external ear, that the direction of sound 
is to be cognized. The adult turns about his head, thus 
trying to detect the direction, by an adjustment of the 
ear. But since this is a process depending upon intel- 
ligent application, we must conclude the cognition of di- 
rection to be an inferential, not an immediate cognition. 



PERCEPTION. 73 

34' 

Smelling and tasting furnish the mind with inferential cognitions 
of qualities that influence respiration and nutrition. 

Smelling and Tasting. — The nose is the organ 
of smell. The tongue and adjacent parts form the organ 
of taste. The nervous organization of each sense is 
adapted to be affected by tiny particles wafted by air 
waves into contact with these nerves. The expansive 
power of the atmosphere is a sufficient cause for such air- 
waves. The tiny particles of cologne or food reach the 
respective organs and cause peculiar sensations. These 
two senses are especially and reciprocally corrective. 

The nose detects particles that influence respiration, 
and, at the same time, is a guardian of nutrition. The ex- 
pansive power of the air wafts odors upward. This ex- 
plains why the nose is placed above the mouth. It thus 
becomes a second safe-guard of nutrition. It is, however, 
not the only organ for the detection of qualities that in- 
fluence nutrition. Catarrh or some other accident may 
interfere with the function of smell. Savor may not be a 
sufficient item upon which the mind should decide in the 
choice of food or drink. 

Flavors are sensations in the organ of taste. These sen- 
sations are the proper data for the health of our nutritive 
system. A. prudent use of the sense of taste will bring 
any amount of comfort to the physical system, and, all 
things being equal, a normal condition of mental forces. 
It will be noticed that savor and flavor are both mere sen- 
sations. What the mind infers from these sensat'ons, 
must b2 called inferential. The derived cognitions are 
matters of comparison and association. The acquired 
cognitions of taste and smell become in time very reliable 
items of information. We can thus easily detect the cause 
of the sensations in both senses. We can refer particular 



74 PKRCKPTION. 

odors to the rose or to perfumes and so on. We can thus 
readily refer particular flavors to the orange or the straw- 
berry. The delicacy of a trained sense of smell or taste 
is a most admirable acquirement. 

It has been proved that nearly every percept requires the aid of 
other percepts and the corrective inference of experience. 

Corrective Percepts. — This can be seen in our or- 
dinary conduct and also in the case of those who, blind 
from birth, have been given sight. We look at a lump of 
lead and notice its size or extension. From this percept 
we infer that it weighs so many pounds ; but we can cor- 
rect this inference by the corrective percept of touch. If 
we lift a pound of butter without looking at the mass, we 
may not guess the weight within half a pound. A per- 
cept of sight at that same moment, changes our estimate. 

Persons born blind learn to use scissors very deftly. 
Such persons will know the scissors used by sound and 
touch. On receiving sight, they will not recognize the 
scissors unless they /eel them, and hear a sound. Illus- 
trations of this kind are quite numerous and may be read- 
ily found by the reader. It is avast field for observation. 
Kvery-day life is made up of such corrections. 

36. 

The information conveyed to the mind in sense-cognitions is 
often inferential, but is never-the-less reliable when the senses are 
sound and used in their proper sphere. 

Reliability of Percepts, — Our acquaintance with 
the external world and our knowledge of qualities in 
bodies, are often not immediate but inferential. In other 
words, a percept is a hmt, an intimation upon which the 
understanding must operate. The senses furnish data for 



P K R C E P T I O N . 75 

judgment and reasoning. The reflective process makes 
our knowledge of external objects morally certain. A 
straight stick will look bent in the water. This looks 
like a deception of the eye. It is not a deception. The 
phenomena of the stick are accurately imaged upon the 
retina. It is, however, only an isolated percept. The 
stick will look different in another medium. Water and 
air differ in their power of refracting rays of light. A 
comparison of percepts and an inferential process will re- 
veal the truth about the stick. 

An object at a distance may seem round, and, when we 
approach it, the object may be square. This is not a de- 
ception of the eye. The understanding must make al- 
lowance for a different condition in each experiment. 
There may be a different experience for each observer ; 
but this does not prove deception. It only shows that 
God meant we should use our mi7id upon data furnished 
us by the senses. When we fail to do this, our inferen- 
tial process is to be blamed, but not the data of sense-ap- 
prehension. 

Besides this, the fact that God has given us five senses 
indicates that each separate percept is to be corrected by 
other percepts. 

Nor can we ever prove these percepts false ; because 
the proof must come from these very senses. If now we 
call them false in our premise, how can we be sure that 
our conclusion is not forever false ? We see, therefore, 
that in the absence of proof to the contrary, common 
sense will always acknowledge sense -percepts reliable. 

It is much more in accordance with the nature of our 
mind to acknowledge the senses reliable than to call them 
unreliable. If they are unreliable, God has made us a 
creature endowed with organs that habitually deceive us. 
This is a horrible conclusion and one that is as repulsive 
to our experience as it is unjust to a loving Creator. 
4* 



76 P E R C K P T I O N . 

The fact that we can detect false percepts, shows that, 
as a rule, percepts are true. The fever patient sees all 
sorts of images in parade upon the ceiling. He is de- 
ceived ; but not by sense -percepts. His mind is affected 
through physical modifications, and his reflective process 
is the deceiver. 

The observer by his bedside knows that the sick man 
is deceiving himself. It is far more reasonable to believe 
that this detection is a normal result than that it is also a 
deception. All this goes to show that our senses give us 
reliable information, unless they are unsound and used in 
an improper sphere. Near-sighted eyes or eyes in ob- 
structed light are illustrations. 

An acquired perception is an inference based upon memory, or 
imagination, or mediate comparison. 

Acquired Perceptions. — It is often difiicult to dis- 
tinguish original, or natural perceptions from acquired, or 
inferential perceptions. Education, the perfection of an 
individual, is so dependent upon acquired perceptions that 
we deem it necessary to notice such perceptions. Chil- 
dren begin to base their conduct and their notions of things 
upon acquired perceptions at a very early age. Indeed, 
no one can remember his earliest acquired perceptions. 

Every one regards acquired perceptions as important in 
determining conduct. We may not always be conscious 
of the importance we attach to such items of inferential 
knowledge ; but a little reflection and a number of illus- 
trations will throw light on the subject. 

Every one of our senses becomes the medium of ac- 
quired perceptions. In every case it is not really percept 
tion, but inference. This inference is based upon mem- 
ory, or imagination, or even mediate comparison. 



PK R C KPT ION, 77 

II lust rations from Sight. — I look at an orange and 
see the rounded half nearest me, but seem to see the other 
half also. I do not really see both halves, but base my 
inference upon recollection. 

We look at a nutmeg grater and we say that it looks 
rough. In this case we inferred what really we remem- 
bered from a previous perception of touch. Sense experi- 
ences are thus commingled from our earliest years, and we 
no longer question their accuracy when we have reached 
maturer years. 

I look at something I have never seen. Though I see 
only one part of it, I seem to see all its parts ; and when 
questioned as to details I find that I had only iinagmed. 

I look at something that resembles a thing of experi- 
ence. Basing my inference upon the imiformity of nature, 
I conclude by mediate comparison that what I see is also 
of such deform or of such a quality. I seem to have seen 
this/br;;^ and this quality, but I really only believe that I 
have seen. 

Illustrations from Other Senses,. — We hear a 
certain sound ; it is night now ; but we affirm that we 
have heard a tolling bell, a thunder peal, a wild beast 
scream, a song of mother, father, friend. 

We touch a flower of certain shape and si^e ; it is dark 
round about us ; but we affirm that what we touch is a red 
rose, a white lily, 2, green leaf, a black board. 

We enter into a darkened room and smell the sweet 
fragrance that pervades it. We affirm that there must be 
in this room a tuberose, a violet ; or, if the odor be un- 
pleasant, that there is sulphur, camphor, or decay. We 
even search for the flower or camphor, confident of the 
fact that it must be here or there. 

Some one puts a something into our mouth. We have 
not seen it, smelted it, or even touched it ; but we affirm 



78 PERCEPTION. 

that it is a cherry, a phtm, a lozenge, a drop of vinegar 
or of brandy. 

The acquired perceptions, as it will be noticed, are in- 
numerable. Upon them we base such important things 
as learning to walk and to talk ; upon them are based very 
many of the doings of every day life. 

PSYCHOLOGICAL AND PRACTICAL VALUE 
OF PERCEPTS. 

Sense-perceptions engage the Intellect, sway the Feelings and 
challenge the Will. It is ever so important, then, to direct them. 

Relation of Percepts to I/ife, — Perception lies at 
the foundation of mental activity. It is doubtful whether 
we could carry on any of the ordinary mental processes 
without sense-perception. It is true that the fundamental 
notions of intuition are born with the birth of mind ; but 
it is not certain that these fundamental notions would 
ever come into notice without the suggestive occasio7is of 
seyise-perception. By means of this faculty, we come into 
possession of vast store -houses of data upon which the 
Intellect operates, compares and concludes. When the 
qualities of environments have been cognized, the builder 
■and the grower and the manufacturer and the inventor 
and hosts of necessary actors weave these objects into the 
service of mankind. The thought before us seems to 
spin itself out into eternity. I^et the thought nature of 
our mind be thus brought into play, and feelings follow 
in all their varied complexion, until the world can hardly 
write the history of their issues. The vilest criminal is 
touched by sounds and sights that meet him. The drunk- 
ard, scarcely able to walk straight, stops to listen to the 
beautifu^ voice of song, and he hears again the cradle 



P K R C K P T I O N . 79 

song of a mother that perhaps at the moment is looking 
down from heaven upon her wayward son. Every emo- 
tion, every affection and passion, every desire of the heart, 
depends for suggestion 2ipo7i sense-perceptions. This is in 
a great measure true of our volitions. Life and its con- 
duct, checkered or pure and noble, is a complex result of 
volitions formed or broken in the mighty rivers of soul 
energies dependent on perception. Our mission in life and 
our preparation for eternal worlds, depend in an awful 
sense upon this our endowment from God. How solemn- 
ly responsible, then, must it be to teach our fellow- men ! 
By an absolute direction of the senses, a teacher would 
gain well nigh absolute moulding power over his pupils. 
The great educators of our time have seen this truth. Co7i- 
crete teaching has come to stay in our public schools. 

CUL TIVA riON OF PERCEPTION. 

39- 

Cuhivation of senses is a necessity and a possibility. The cul- 
tivation must be secured by direct exercise. 

Cultivation of Perception. — In view of what has 
been said, it is only natural for us to conclude that our 
senses demand cultivation. God has given them to us as 
guardians and as message-ways for the mind. He has 
imposed upon us also the necessity of prudent reflective 
processes, thus revealing to us the grand privilege of in- 
telligent being. In the fact that sense-perceptions pre- 
cede all other mental activity and in the fact that even 
consciousness depends upon sense-activity, we must ever 
find God's intimation that we are responsible agents. It 
lies in our power to direct and cultivate these senses by 
proper exercise. It is the duty of every teacher to pay 
his first attentions to this faculty of the mind. By so do- 
ing he will confer upon humanity a great boon and will 



8o P K R C K P T I O N . 

himself feel that he has done his duty, kept his charge, 
fulfilled his mission. 

THE REPRESENTATIVE POWERS- 
MEMORY, ETC. 

Representation Essential, — In the preceding 
chapter we dealt with percepts. These percepts are ideas 
and images of an external world. They make up the sum 
total of our notions of things round about us. With- 
out them, we would lack the fundamental occasions for all 
thought. But, though we should be endowed with organs 
and powers to acquire these percepts, unless we be also 
endowed with a power to connect our present self with our 
past self, the purpose of these percepts would be wholly 
frustrated. The percepts of every moment would occur 
as isolated cognitions, and that is all we could say. ' Hence 
we infer the existence of just such a power. -' 

THREE- FOLD CHARACTER. 
40. 

The representative power, in its conception of absent objects, is 
reproductive, recognitive and creative. It involves Memory and 
Imagination. 

Cognitions of sense- objects are called percepts. When 
subsequent cognitions of these objects i?i their absence enter 
our mind, we still call them percepts. These are then 
products of the representative power. It were better to 
call this power Mental Representation. Custom has given 
us the name representative ; and this is a proper use of the 
word. In the case of imagination, there need be no repre- 
senting. The term is well applied only to memory. Im- 
agination in its function of ideal combination is also repre- 



M K M O R Y . 8 I 

seiitative ; but in its function of ideal creation it need not 
be so. 

Memory and imagination may both deal with represen- 
tation. When we have said they resemble each other in 
this one respect, we have perhaps pointed out all the re- 
semblance there is between memory and imagination, 
lyater on we shall show that these two powers differ ma- 
terially in their operations and products, and that their 
functions are distinct and voluntary. 

For the present we shall consider the notions implied in 
the words reproductive, recognitive and creative. Is the 
mind really able to reproduce and recognize former knowl- 
edge, and is the mind able to create original concepts ? 
No one will doubt this. The percepts of yesterday, of 
last week, perhaps of childhood, can be made to stand out 
as pure transcripts of a reproducing power, and the mind 
will recognize each transcript as an exact value of a for- 
mer percept. Both processes are representative. 

The mind again presents to itself what has been in con- 
sciousness beforehand. Only exact transcripts are in- 
volved, and they represent the historically true. 

The mind has also the power to create original concepts 
or to so modify former percepts that the concepts are no 
longer historically true. Such concepts are purely ideal. 
There are thus two distinct products of Representation. 
A comparative view makes these distinctions more strik- 
ing : 

CONTENTS OF MKMORY : CONCEPTS OF IMAGINATION : 

1. Reproduced images. i. Original images. 

2. Exact transcripts. 2. Modified transcripts. 

3. The historically true. 3. The purely ideal. 

4. Recognitive in process. 4. Creative in process. 
Representation, therefore, involves two distinct facul- 
ties. We know the former as Memory ; the latter, as 
Imagination. 



82 M K M OR Y . 

B. MEMORY. 
41. 

Memory is that mental faculty by which we retain, recall and 
recognize former knowledge. 

NA TURE OF MEM OR V. 

Memory is a distinct and voluntary power capable of cultivation. 

Argumentation, — It is necessary for us to recollect 
these characteristics as indicated when we think of mem- 
ory. These qualities are the attributes of a proper men- 
tal faculty. Reference to the discussion of what consti- 
tutes a proper mental faculty will be sufficient explana- 
tion of the attributes indicated. Do they really all appl}^ 
to memory ? In demonstrating a proposition in Geometr}^ 
we use all the proper faculties. The functions of memor}- 
here are clearly discernible and voluntary in the process. 

By experience each one knows that committing to 
memory is a voluntary effort, and that by practice the 
memory receives culture. It is not necessary to prove 
that the memory is invariably voluntary. For exam- 
ple : if we voluntarily try to forget a name that is men- 
tioned at some moment, we shall fail ; but this no more 
proves that memory is not voluntary than failure of ph}-- 
sical execution proves man not a voluntary agent. When 
we try to forget such a name, we act contrar}^ to the laws 
of memory, we make an imprudent and unreasonable ef- 
fort and therefore fail in our abuse of memory, just as a 
voluntary agent will fail when he tries to bite off an iron 
rod five inches in diameter. Memory is, then, a proper 
faculty. 



MEMORY. 83 

functions of Memory, — It is now appropriate to 
consider the functions of memory. These are found to be 
retention, recollection and recognition. 

The functions of memory are related to each other as 
means to an end. Each preceding function is a necessary 
means for each succeeding function. Retention, recollec- 
tion and recognition are related by logical necessity. 

When we shall have learned the exact work denoted by 
each function, we shall also understand the logical neces- 
sity above indicated. 

ASSOCIATION AND SUGGESTION. 

Introductory Remarks. — To gain a clear notion 
of the memory, we must study what is known as Associa- 
tion and Sicggestion. The word association denotes a co- 
existence of items. In perception we acquire notions 
of items in co-existence. In memory this is also true. 
Each co-existent or associated item has a suggestive value 
in memory. Suggestion is a universal law of thought. 

SUGGESTION. 
43' 

The term suggestion denotes a reciprocal influence between two 
or more related items in association. 

Association, — Knowledge never comes to us as iso- 
lated items of consciousness. Every sensation, percept, 
or concept comes to us associated with other sensations, 
percepts or concepts. These associated items form in the 
mind a group, or cluster, or chain of co-existence. Hence 
we may speak of a chain of association. This chain of 
association consists of all the items associated at a partic- 
ular moment. We may also say that each such chain is 



84 MEMORY. 

united to the next one formed, so that memory items form 
a chain of association reaching from the cradle to the 
grave. Each item of memory is like a link of this chain. 
Bach link is in clasping contiguity with other links. The 
word contiguity means contact, or connection, or. associa- 
tion. These items, or links, may be associated under 
various relations. Two items may be linked by the re- 
lation of time and place, other items may be linked to- 
gether by resemblance ; by contrast ; and by cause and 
effect. Contiguity under any of these relations becomes 
a requisite condition for the functions of memory. Each 
of these relations has the same influence. 

Suggestion, — This influence is called suggestion. It 
is a reciprocal influence between two associated items in 
co-existence. 

By this influence of one item upon the other, all items 
are severally suggestive the one of the other. 

Wky these relations are the necessary conditions for 
suggestion, can only be explained by the nature of mind. 
All we know is that this influence is universal, and that 
its activity is always the same. Since suggestion is an 
unvarying principle in the mind wherever there is co- ex- 
istence, or association of thoughts, we call suggestion a 
ivAW. The relations under which each item is united to 
its neighbor is not a law ; these relations are only the 
necessary conditions for active influence between two 
items. That is, the various relations of items are exciting* 
causes of suggestion. Each such relation in some mys- 
terious way rouses the mind into activity, be that ac- 
tivity the operation of memory or imagination. Sug- 
gestion is, therefore, a reciprocal influence, an unvary- 
ing result of contiguity under various but clearly defined 
relations, a law of thought and universal. These various 
but clearly defined relations of items in association are 
known as the ' 'laws of association. " Of course, the word 



M K M O R Y . 85 

"laws" is a misnomer. It is a product of visage and very 
deceptive to the student of mental science. It is neces- 
sary, however, to remember that the word "laws" is used 
in the sense of relations, so that we may understand wri- 
ters who use the word "laws" in their discussions of mem- 
ory. Some of these relations are objective ; others are 
subjective. 

Objective and Subjective Relations. — Those re- 
lations which one idea or image or thought holds" to an- 
other are known as objective relations. The objective re- 
lations may be called primary relations, because they are 
essential to the contiguity of thought- objects. The pri- 
mary relations of contiguity are those of time and place ; 
resemblance ; contrast ; cause and effect. Those rela- 
tions which denote the conditions and environments of 
the recipient of memory- items are known as subjective 
relations. The subjective relations may be called second- 
ary relations, because they are not essential to the ab- 
solute contiguity of thoughts. The secondary relations 
do, however, determine whether ojie idea shall be sug- 
gested rather than another. Indeed, the secondary rela- 
tions of association account for every notion that springs 
up in memory or imagination. We may not always be 
able to tell to which particular relation to refer a product 
of memory or imagination ; but we are able to refer them 
to such relations in very many instances. The cases are 
so numerous as to cause us reasonably to conclude that 
they account for all the products of memory, etc. The 
secondary relations of association are known as the second- 
ary "laws" of association. The origin and use of the 
term has been referred to above. The secondary relations 
of association are : i. Continuance of attention. 2. Viv- 
idness of feeling. 3. lyapse of time. 4. Hxclusiveness 
of association. 5. Frequency of repetition. 6. State of 
body. 7. State of mind. 8. Temperament. 9. Occu- 



86 M BM O R Y . 

pation. The following propositions should be committed 
verbatim : 



44' 

Suggestion is the result of contiguity, and causes one related item 
of former association to recur by the aid of another. 

45' 

The chain of association consists of the several sensations, per- 
cepts and concepts of a continued and former co-existence. 

46. 

The primary relations of contiguity are : i Time and Place. 2. 
Resemblance. 3. Contrast, 4. Cause and Effect. These rela- 
tions are known as the "laws of association." 



47' 

The primary relations of contiguity may be illustrated by : i. 
Napoleon and Wellington. 2. Blossoms and childhood. 3. Pov- 
erty and affluence. 4. Vibration and sound. 

48. 

The secondary relations of contiguity are : i. Continuance of at- 
tention. 2. Vividness of feeling. 3. Lapse of time. 4. Exclu- 
siveness of association, 5. Frequency of repetition. 6. State of 
body. 7. State of mind. 8. Temperament, g. Occupation. 

49' 

The secondary relations of contiguity may be illustrated by : i. 
The convict. 2. Shipwreck. 3. Calculus. 4. Eclipse, 5. Com- 
mitting. 6. Indigestion. 7. Fear. 8. The party, g. The ring- 
ing bell. 



MEMORY. 87 

PRIMARY RELA TIONS OF CONTIGUITY. 

Time and Place. — Napoleon and Wellington illus- 
trate the relation of time and place. Their co- existence 
occurred under this relation. They were associated in 
the battle of Waterloo, and the mention of either name 
will at once suggest the other items of a former contigui- 
ty. History and Geography abound in such examples. 

Resemblance. — Blue eyes and golden hair are de- 
cided characteristics of an interesting friend. In the ab- 
sence of that friend, a passing stranger with blue eyes or 
golden hair will at once suggest the absent friend. In 
the same way blossoms may suggest childhood days and 
our exact experiences. The orchard covered with apple- 
blossoms recalls your earl}^ years, your hopes and plans, 
your day dreams and your fancies. The blossom season 
promised so much in both these situations. Other easily 
traceable resemblances account still more fully for a host 
of rhetorical figures. 

Contrast. — The relation of contrast between two items 
of a former association at once results in suggestion. The 
sight of queenly robes and ^ dazzling gems recalls a lowly 
cottage, a thread-bare coat and a loving mother humbly 
clothed that she may send a darling child to school. Re- 
verse the case, and the same holds true. 

Cause and Effect. — Two items of a former associa- 
tion were contiguous under the relation of cause and effect. 
The one item will immediately suggest and recall the 
other. For this reason, sound suggests vibration or vi- 
bration recalls a certain sound. The relations of items in 
science and history are thus the objective conditions, the 
suggestive contiguity for all recollection in our course of 
study. 



88 MEMORY. 

THE SECONDARY RELATIONS OF CON- 
TIGUITY. 

Continuance of Attention, — Every one knows 
how important these relations are. They denote the pro- 
per conditions of the'person who is to commit anything. 
These conditions of the person explain why a certain item 
recalls o?te former association rather than another. In- 
deed, the secondary relations of association might be 
called the necessary subjective conditions of the learner 
and the instructor. The learner or instructor may, by a 
proper mastery of the secondary relations of association, 
acquire almost absolute recollection of all former associa- 
tions. Continuance of attention is the first of these re- 
lations. The absence or presence of such continued at- 
tention will often decide the impossibility or the possibil- 
ity of recollecting a previous lesson. The convict, on his 
trial, focused his attention in one continued pressure upon 
every item in the trial, and a single one of all these as- 
sociated items will afterwards vividly recall the whole 
trial scene. And thus the convict in his gloomy cell will 
recall the judge and jury or the witness in his box. 

Vividness of Conception, — Major Andre could 
never have forgotten the scene of his capture, because of 
the vivid conception caused at the time of his capture. 
What feeling, what emphatic mental images must have 
flashed upon his whole soul ! It is thus in a shipwreck. 
Kvery soul stands in the presence of Eternity. Fear and 
hope and agony all press every item of sound and sight 
indelibly upon the memory of those involved. No won- 
der that the rescued sailor describes the scene with elo- 
quent words and with eyes again wild with the vivid con- 
ception upon the canvas of his mind. 

I/apse of Xime, — Too great a lapse of time makes 
it utterly impossible to recall our college calculus. The 



MEMORY. 89 

magnetic force, if we may thus symbo lize the nature of the 
connection between items of former .association, has faded 
out, and the items have been completely dissociated. It 
is this principle of our mind that keeps a sorrowing myriad 
of human souls from despairing in their daily missions. 
Losses, disappointment, grief and anguish thus lose their 
poignancy. I^apse of time is the great healer for the 
wounds of this world ; it proves God's loving care. 

Mxclusiveness of Association. — You may have 
seen an eclipse under certain well defined circumstances. 
It was the only eclipse you saw and the only time you 
were in such circumstances. If you ever see another 
eclipse, the eclipse will readily recall the circumstances 
that were associated exclusively with that occasion. The 
beautiful song sung by a very de ar friend and by that 
one friend only, will, if heard ten years afterward, recall 
that particular friend. The exclusiveness of the associa- 
tion assures this result. 

Prequency of Repetition, — Here is the decisive 
condition for accurate recollection. Wherever this con- 
dition is faithfully adhered to by learner and instructor, 
the result will be most gratifying. It may not be a very 
palatable advice ; but he who would attain all the desirable 
qualities of a reliable memory must be willing to repeat 
and repeat and repeat. Review is the main-stay of a 
teacher's success. Upon his patience and perseverance in 
this matter must always depend the usefulness of the 
learner's effort and satisfactory results for the instruc- 
tor. Frequency of repetition seems to have the same 
effect upon items of association as repeated charges of an 
electric machine would have upon objects charged. Fre- 
quency of repetition is like repeated tracings upon a tab- 
let of wax. Every succeeding touch will deepen the 
channel traced. Committing to memory, a practice of 
vital importance, may thus become a potent factor in ac- 



90 M E: M O R Y . 

quiring a vast Store-house of valuable scholarship. Even 
mechanical committing may thus hold items before our 
thought-nature until the mind has assimilated the items. 

State of Body. — We know how hard it is to recall 
what we read when our head ached with fierce throbbings. 
Indigestion or a dull liver may determine an item of for- 
mer association to suggest an experience altogether dif- 
ferent from the experience suggested by the same item to 
a person that knows nothing of indigestion or a dull liver. 
An article of food will thus recall to one man the horrible 
head-ache consequent upon formerly eating the article, 
and to another man it will suggest a most happy conver- 
sation associated with some former eating of the same ar- 
ticle of food. Students will readily discover illustrations 
of personal experience. The reciprocal relation of body 
and mind lies at the basis of such results. 

State of Mind, — Anger, fear, intense feeling or con- 
ception of any kind determines the items of our recollec- 
tion. While riding on the train through a dark tunnel, 
the fear once inspired by an accident on a former trip 
through a tunnel, will decide the suggestion of the former 
environments and perhaps cause the person any amount 
of discomfort. To one who was never thus unfortunate, 
the dark tunnel and the mufiled rumbling are perhaps 
suggestive of some romance or some jolly trip down the 
dark caverns of dusky diamonds. If we could know the 
exact condition of the mind at the moment of acquiring 
any experience, we should be able to compute with some 
certainty the exact results of recollection. 

Bad news, the state of the atmosphere and any other 
experience affecting the reciprocal relation of body and 
mind, will all help to modify our retention and recol- 
lection. 

temperament. — The bilious temperament in associ- 
ation with any particular item will be likely to recall the 



MEMORY. 91 

exact contraries to items recalled by the man of sanguine 
temperament. Temperament is a factor of perceptive 
procCvSses and thus necessarily decides the recollection of 
items in a former association. It is thus explained why 
persons of different temperament recite a lesson or an ex- 
perience, mentioning items so widely different. The 
bilious temperament will recall all the dark phases of an 
evening party ; while the light-hearted, jolly maiden 
will recall all the bright phases of that party. Future 
days will fill the minds of the two classes of persons with 
images as widely differing as darkness differs from light. 
The factor of temperament thus enters very actively into 
the results of retention and recollection. It is a most 
potent modifier of memory. 

Occupation. — Every one can readily offer an illus- 
tration under this heading. The farmer, lawyer and 
preacher may walk down town, arm in arm. On the 
sudden striking of the town clock or the ringing of a bell, 
the farmer will recall his dinner hour, the lawyer, his ap- 
pointment with a client, and the preacher, his appoint- 
ment with a couple to be wedded at that hour. Corres- 
ponding differences of a reflective process will make it im- 
possible for the three to continue arm in arm. We can 
readily guess, for example, how the preacher would re- 
gret the loss of a crisp ten dollar bill. 

RETENTION. 
50. 

Retention is often a voluntary effort to bring items of knowledge 
into suggestive relations of contiguity. 

Nature and Aim of Retention.— Retention is 
sometimes voluntary and sometimes involuntary. Some- 
times the mind retains without effort and even against its 
own willingness. 
5 



92 M K M O R Y . 

In su:li cases the primary and secondary relations of 
association have been unconsciously satisfied, and the 
mind simply acts according to a natural* law. 

In committing a lesson or in retaining what we wish 
to remember, retention is a voluntary effort to bring items 
of knowledge into contiguity ; it is an effort to secure 
certain relations of association. In this effort items of 
perception and conception are brought into co -existence. 
This voluntary process of association is based upon the 
intuitive cognition that associated items have a tendency 
to suggest each other. 

The voluntary phase of retention resembles somewhat 
the second function of memory, namely, recollection. 
Consciousness and experience both recognize this ; but 
recognize also that there is a generic difference. Reten- 
tion and recollection are a logical necessity in memory. 
A proper process of retention aims to place items of 
knowledge into the most suggestive relations of associa- 
tion. The relations having a decidedly suggestive ten- 
dency are those already noticed in the discussion of pri- 
mary and secondary laws. When retention is an intelli- 
gent and voluntary process, it constitutes the proper basis 
for complete recollection. 

Retention becomes an intelligent process when it is 
based upon exact cognition of the items to be retained. 
Our power to retain and to recall depends in a great 
measure upon our power of comprehending the items to 
be retained. Perhaps nothing is so much to be regretted 
as the uncertain and reckless retention of careless learners. 
He who would make his retaining capacity a voluntary 
ability must first have sufficient patience to apprehend 
and to comprehend the item and not something like it ; and 
secondly, he must intelligently associate what he retains. 

Children should not be allowed to do careless commit- 



MEM OR Y . 93 

ting ; every effort should be made by teachers to help 
children to commit intelligently. 

TEN A SSIS TANT RE LA TIONS. 

lyCt US inquire what are the most suggestive relations 
of association. What are the characteristics of sugges- 
tive association ? In what relation shall we place con- 
tiguous items of association ? Having already studied 
these relations we may characterize the association to be 
aimed at in retention as follows : It must be 

1. An interesting association. 

2. A continued association. 

3. A repeated association. 

4. A vivid association. 

5. An emphatic association. 

6. The reciprocal relation of body and mind modifies 
the association. 

7. Occupation and temperament modify the association. 

8. There may be exclusiveness of association. 

9. The association may be mechanical or logical. 

10. The association should include the objective rela- 
tions of contiguity. 

An Interesting Association, — Retention is an in- 
teresting association when the items to be retained are in- 
teresting. Some things are more beautiful or useful or 
novel, and for such and similar reasons are more interest- 
ing. Abstract items can often be made more interesting 
by concrete instruction, by humor, or by individual char- 
acteristics of an instructor. We cannot over-estimate the 
pedagogical value of an interesting association in the 
process of retention. 

A Continued Association, — Retention is a con- 
tinued association when there is continuance of attention. 
It is continuance of attention that has filled the mind of 



94 MEMORY. 

the naturalist with every imaginable detail in nature. It 
is continuance of attention that makes a special occupa- 
tion able to retain every minute detail of that occupation. 
The student who, through voluntary eifort, summons 
up persevering continuance of attention to the one topic 
in hand will command respect in his class and attain to 
vast acquisitions in every sphere of life. 

Repeated Association, — Retention is a repeated 
association when there is frequency of repetition. Re- 
peated association is a most necessary association. Every 
repetition seems to unite the items associated into a more 
magnetic union. Rkvibw is the: soui. of re^tknTion. 
Review is the conservation of energies expended in the 
acquirement of facts. 

Vivid Association. — Retention is a vivid associa- 
tion when there is vividness of feeling in the process. 
Vividness of feeling may denote any strong feeling, such 
as anger, excitement and fear. There should always be 
present an exact apprehension of items to be retained and 
a sufficient amount of interest to cause vividness of feel- 
ing. When the association can be made vivid, so that 
the retained thought stands out in consciousness like an 
image upon the retina, or a painting upon a canvas, there 
will be successful retention. The presence or absence of 
a vivid association in retention partly explains the mem- 
ory phenomena of old age. 

Hmphatic Association, — Retention is an emphatic 
association when we retain with voluntar3^ effort. Men- 
tal emphasis upon any form of activity always results not 
only in exact apprehension of items to be retained ; but 
places associated items into such a binding contiguity 
that subsequent events seem to have no changing influ- 
ence. The learner knows how much more he retains 
under attention than when he tries to acquire listlessly. 



MEMORY. 95 

Reciprocal Relation of Body and Mind. — The 

intimate relation of body and mind modifies the associa- 
tive process of retention. When the boiy is exhausted 
by sickness or physical effort, retention is a very trying 
process. Every one knows how our nervous organiza- 
tion and our liver system are affected by the state of the 
atmosphere. But the brain, the seat of the mind, is af- 
fected by our nervous state ; and the contiguity of items 
as well as the selection of items is thus strangely modi- 
fied. Nervous tension seems to decide the energy of con- 
tiguity. Any unusual state of mind also modifies the 
process of retention. This may be accounted for by re- 
membering that anything like sad news or joyous news, 
or disappointment or success is per se an object of interest 
an 1 attention. Kxperience will supply many illustrations. 
Occupation and Temperament, — Occupation and 
temperament modify the character of retention and also 
the selection of items to be retained. We are all apt to 
retain more readily the items of our daily experiences, 
because of frequency of repetition and vividness of feeling. 
Temperament decides the selection of items equally as 
much, and it decides the exactness of cognition as well as 
the amount of voluntary effort applied in the associating 
process of retention. 

Uxcliisiveness of Association. — Retention is 
modified by exclusiveness of association. It is easy to 
retain an item or a fact that is associated with but one 
other item. Exclusiveness of association is, however, 
rather a suggestive relation in recalling that which was 
retained. 

Objective Relations. — The primary relations of 
time and place, resemblance and contrast, cause and effect, 
as conscious or unconscious elements in the process of 
retention, will materially aid the retention of items. The 



96 M K M O R Y . 

learner will find that when he cognizes any of these ob- 
jective relations, he can hasten the process of retaining. 

I/Ogical and Mechanical Association. — Reten- 
tion is properly called mechanical when the items to be 
committed are connected as mere abstract symbols ; when 
the forms are retained rather than the connected thoughts. 
Retention is a logical process when not only forms of 
thought, but connected thoughts are retained. Mechan- 
ical retention is more common in youth ; logical reten- 
tion, in maturity. Mechanical retention is an arbitrary 
process, and logical retention is a natural process. These 
distinctions are the explanatory facts in the greater or 
less success of any man's retention. It is, however, often 
reasonable and advantageous to cultivate mechanical' 
retention. It is not only a training of the voluntary 
nature, but has a pedagogical value. We may sum up 
this value in a brief enumeration. 

1. It is of practical use. 

2. It is necessary in all recitations. 

3. It is the initial step to the understanding. 

4. It holds topics before our thought- nature. 

5. It is an essential of proper review. 

While this is true, it should be our constant effort to 
retain by logical association. Such an association will not 
only hasten the process and thus save valuable time ; but 
will make committing far more satisfactory. More than 
this can be said ; for that which we retain in a logical as- 
sociation is retained in accordance with the very nature of 
Intellect. 

MNEMONICS. 

A system of mnemonics is an association of items, so 
ordered that when the learner has fixed the items in a 
given succession, all facts in their chronological succes- 



MEMORY. 97 

sioii may be linked to the assumed association of items in 
the mnemonic system. All systems of mnemonics are 
based on association and suggestion. Various systems 
have been offered to the educated world. Among them 
is the system of Prof. Loissette. This system seems to 
be a remarkably ingenious scheme. 

It is doubtful whether any artificial system is of much 
educational value. It miy satisfy our sense of novelty and 
oddity, but surely can not take the place of logical mem- 
ory. Mnemonics may satisfy the curious and aid the 
peculiar, but the actual student of physical and metaphys- 
ical sciences must not imagine that mnemonics can dis- 
cover a royal road to scholarship. Hard work, persever- 
ance and logical linking of committed items will go farther 
to secure success for memory than any system of mne- 
monics. Retention is a process of associating exact 
items of knowledge into most suggestive relations of co- 
existence. What is the aim of such association ? 

PREVIOUS CO-EXISTENCE AND MEMORY. 

The law of suggestion already noticed makes such as- 
sociation the requisite for recollection and recognition. 
Retention is the initial function, the preparatory element 
of memory. Without co-existence, items in their isola- 
tion could not have a reciprocal influence upon each 
other ; and without a reciprocal influence of items of con- 
sciousness, there could never be anything like suggestion. 
Co-existence may be 2^ present association or a former as- 
sociation of items. Items of consciousness in present co- 
existence are suggestive to all intellectital faculties ; but 
unless the items belong to a former association the mem- 
ory is not concerned. Even sensations and emotions may 
be suggestive and thus help the functions of memory. If 
in retaining certain items in co-existence, similar or con- 



98 MEMORY. 

trary sensations become objects of consciousness, a repe- 
tition of such sensation ma}'^ recall the former association. 

MATERIALS FOR RETENTION. 

What sort of items may enter the. associating process of 
retention ? I^et us examine consciousness for an answer. 

Sensations, — We eat an orange and experience a 
sensation of flavor. This sensation becomes an object of 
consciousness and as such is associated with the orange 
which is also an object of consciousness through the gate- 
way of sight. This sensation can be retained in some 
mysterious way. It is true that the sensation is not an 
experience of consciousness when the orange is absent, 
and yet when the word orange is mentioned there is an 
activity of the nerves of taste corresponding to the activ- 
ity of those nerves when the orange was actually tasted. 
We can not say that the literal sensation is retained, for 
that would make a certain relation of nervous molecules a 
requisite condition. Such a relation we can never prove ; 
but while the literal sensation is not retained, the sen- 
sation causes a mental equivalent for the sensation and 
this mental equivalent is retained. If it is not retained, 
then it is impossible to explain recollection or recognition. 
Both recollection and recognition are matters of experi- 
ence. Hence, even if we can not explain the exact nature 
of retaining each item of former consciousness, retaining 
is still a fact. The memory is, however, not to be com- 
pared to a material tablet or a physical receptacle. When- 
ever such a comparison is made, we dignify the nervous 
organism as superior to mental organization. 

Percepts. — A percept is an idea or an image resultant 
from perception. Since such a percept is a fact of con- 
sciousness and since whatever may be properly associated 
in consciousness assumes some relation of suggestion, 



M KM O R Y . 99 

every percept is a material for retention. Indeed, per- 
cepts constitute a vast collection of associated items in our 
memory. Perception furnishes more material for reten- 
tion than any other mental power. Upon these percepts 
as retained in memory, we base our reflective processes, 
and out of them grows the mass of our life-conduct. Per- 
haps perception is the determining power of the mind. 
Perhaps it decides the necessity of memory, and as such a 
deciding power it must furnish the memor}" with a vast 
amount of material for retention. 

Pormer Concepts. — Retention finds its material in 
every domain of the mind. The products of every active 
power, and the imparted impulses in every receptive ca- 
pacity of mind, become proper materials for retention. 
Ideas and truths of intuition, concepts of fancy, decisions 
of judgment and conclusions of reasoning, are proper ma- 
terials for retention. Simple emotions, affections and 
desires, in so far as they become distinct facts of con- 
sciousness, are materials for retention. Motives, choices 
and volitions are materials for retention. All these items 
can be placed into proper association, into relations of as- 
sociation, into relations that are suggestive. Thus they 
are brought into the grasp of retention. Retention makes 
memory a vast spiritual storehouse, an immatkriai. rk- 
CKPTACLB for the products of mental powers and capaci- 
ties. The nature of such a receptacle we can not fully 
comprehend. As a function of the mind, retention is a 
mysterious grasp of items, a grasp that may continue with 
sufficient energy our personal identity into Eternity. 



5* 



lOO M15MORY. 

RECOLLECTION. 
51' 

Recollection is the voluntary or involuntary recalling of items 
in a former association. It is based upon suggestion. 

Two-Pold Character, — Consciousness is our source 
of information. From it we learn that, after retaining 
items of former association, we may voluntarily or invol- 
untarily recall such items of former association. The fact 
that items once associated assume a suggestive relation 
in co-existence, explains the possibility of involuntary 
recollection. Some item of the former chain of associa- 
tion may accidentally enter our consciousness and, through 
. the law of suggestion, this item may reproduce the former 
association. It is thus that long forgotten names or facts 
come into our recollection without an effort of ours. This 
line of thought explains reverie and absorption and re- 
flection and other phenomena. On the other hand, vol- 
untary recollection is an experience of consciousness. A 
forgotten name may be recalled by a voluntary effort to 
re-associate any item of memory's chain with the forgot- 
ten one. Sometimes we shall fail to do so until we dis- 
cover some item formerly in contact with the forgotten 
name. Kvery one knows how suddenly such a discovered 
item, by its suggesting power, brings the forgotten name 
into our consciousness. It is not necessary to suppose 
continued sub-conscious effort to recall such a name. 
The fact that the effort can not be proved conscious phe- 
nomena, is sufficient proof that there was no effort. We 
can not go back of consciousness. The effort to recall a 
forgotten name is a universal confession of the mind that 
something has been retained and that this something can 
be recalled. All that is necessary for such recollection is 
the recurrence of some item of former association. This 



MEMORY. lOI 

item is an object of effort or an object of search. We may 
discover the item by search or ivithout search. Once dis- 
covered, such item will have a suggesting influence suf- 
ficient to make recollection possible. Personal experience 
furnishes hosts of illustrations. 

Suggestion, whether objective or subjective, renders recollection 
a manifold possibility. 

Suggestive Relations, — That recollection may be 
quick rather than slow, items of association must be 
placed into proper and most suggestive relations of con- 
tiguity. If these relations are decided and definite, recol- 
lection is more likely to be a quick process. In studying 
and in teaching, it should be our constant effort to retain 
knowledge according to the so-called laws of association. 
Reference to primar}^ and secondary laws of association 
will suffice at this point of the discussion. Of all the re- 
lations of contiguity, the most important ones for ready 
and complete recollection are : i. Vividness of Feeling. 
2. Continuance of Attention. 3. Frequency of Repe- 
tition. 

In a wider sense, we may say that recollection depends 
upon the same laws as retention. When retention has 
occurred in accordance with these laws, recollection will 
follow as a natural step. Retention was the preparatory 
step. 

PRODUCTS OF RECOLLECTION. 

53' 

Vividness of recollection depends upon the source of retention. 

Vividness and Dimness, — Vividness depends on 
the SOURCES of retention. The usual sources of retention 



I02 MEMORY. 

are the five sense -gateways. Percepts coming through 
these gateways are not all equally definite. The eye is 
pre-eminently superior to all other sense- organisms as a 
source of percepts. The ear seems to come next in or- 
der. It is a primary requisite for successful recollection 
that what we are about to retain must be grasped exactly — 
the thing and not something like it. 

Accuracy of perception and clearness of conception 
stand in balanced proportion. It is self-evident that what 
we never grasped just as it was, can not be recalled just 
as it was. Since sight is the gate -way through which 
definite images enter the mind, we are better able to re- 
member and better able to recall items obtained through 
sight. This explains why it is better to learn a thing by 
sight than by sound. The eye is better than the ear in 
acquiring vocabulary or in retaining knowledge. The 
teacher of orthography and language finds the eye worth 
twice as much as the ear. 

Quickness or Slowness. — Recollection is also de- 
pendent upon TAI.KNT and cui^TURK. The memory of 
children whose parents had general culture is always 
better than that of children whose parents lack general 
culture. Practice, exercise is, however, the most de- 
cisive element in the success of recollection. Without 
voluntary exercise recollection becomes sluggish and un- 
ready. With judicious exercise the memory can be made 
to recall at once what it definitely retained. Such volun- 
tary exercise is a possibility for the learner and should be 
required by instructors. When the process of recalling is 
involuntary, we term it remembrance ; but when we recall 
with voluntary effort, it is termed recollection proper. 

Success of Recollection. — Accurate and complete 
recollection is a most satisfactory acquirement in educa- 
tion and should be aimed at by every one. Such recol- 
lection depends upon the nature of retention as well a^ 



MEMORY. 103 

Upon voluntary effort in recalling. When items of know- 
ledge have been retained in a mechanical way, recollec- 
tion is well nigh impossible in a few weeks. Retention 
should, therefore, not be merely mechanical ; it should 
be a logical association, an association based upon the ob- 
jective relations of thoughts. What we retain, for ex- 
ample, as cause or effect, is very readily recalled as such, 
whenever the occasion presents itself Under a healthy 
exercise of memory, the products of recollection will be 
more vivid than the percepts upon which memory oper- 
ated. 

54' 

Memory furnishes remarkably accurate images for the subse- 
quent description of absent objects. 

Word- Painting from Recollection. — When we 
stand in the presence of some object of sense-apprehension, 
unimportant items blur the image caused by important 
items. Perception, by a sort of dissipation, weakens de- 
scription in that it does not suppress belittling details. 
In the presence of the sublime or beautiful, we see not 
only the important features and the emphatic lines of de- 
scription, but we wander, as it were. Hence, when we 
describe the sublime or the beautiful we fail to deal with 
definite and with emphatic features, and thus also fail to 
touch the hearer with emphatic touches. 

When we describe from me^nory, the belittling details 
drop out, and emphatic features make the description ap- 
pealingly eloquent. 

Niagara Falls, Glen Onoko, the storm at sea, the land- 
scape and the mighty chorus, can be more vividly de- 
scribed when the description is based upon memory than 
upon perception. Novelists, painters, orators and artists 
take advantage of this remarkable accuracy of recollec- 



I04 M K M O R Y . 

tion. It is also a matter of experience in our .every-day 
conversational descriptions. The blind old traveller, 
Niebuhr, could recall vivid pictures of Oriental scenes. 
Touched by the images of recollection, he described with 
eloqicence those far away lands of the Bast. The orator, 
especially, gains descriptive power in proportion with his 
obedience to this feature of recollection. 

55' 

The good memory that usually accompanies superior mental ca- 
pacity is modified by disease and old age mainly for lack of inter- 
esting and repeated association. 

JEffects of Disease and Old Age, — Recollection 
is more or less ready and complete in proportion to the 
normal or abnormal relation of body and mind. The re- 
ciprocal relation of body and mind decides the selection 
of facts of consciousness, modifies the selection of items to 
be retained and determines the items of recollection. Dis- 
ease and injury of the nervous system modify and even 
interrupt this intimate dependence of body and mind. A 
greater tension of the nervous organism may re-vivify 
facts apparently forgotten. This is illustrated by the ex- 
perience of Germans and Swedes in Philadelphia. It is 
recorded of these people that they had not used their na- 
tive tongue for many years ; but that, under the tension 
of disease and dying, they spoke their native tongue. 
There are many such instances. A jar upon the nervous 
organization has often caused the person affected to forget 
most familiar relations. Dr. Haven relates the experi- 
ence of a surgeon who, for a time, forgot that he had a 
wife and children. The insane forget their former life. 
Nervous exhaustion causes unready and incomplete recol- 
lection. Memory seems to give way first. This may 
only seem so because the other mental powers do not be- 



MEMORY. 105 

tray weakness so readily. Perhaps vocabulary suffers 
first of all. Transposition of words or letters is a com- 
mon result. In old age, recollection is not complete or 
accurate. What came to our aged mother in her youth, 
is readil}^ and completely recalled ; but what came to her 
in her later years, soon vanished, and recollection became 
slow and incomplete. How can we account for the mem- 
ory phenomena of old age and of memory outside of some 
favorite occupation ? When old age comes, the senses one 
by one respond less vividly to their contact with the ex- 
ternal world ; sights and sounds, even touch, savor and 
flavor, are less distinct sensations. In consequence of a 
degeneration in sense- apprehension, all percepts are usual- 
ly more indistinct. This furnishes the key to the expla- 
nation that we are seeking. What . aged people can no 
longer distinctly perceive, is not likely to produce vivid- 
ness of feeling. Our fathers and mothers are more inter- 
ested in the distant past. Interest /s the primary relation 
of contiguity. Interest determines vividness of feeling 
and makes the association of items a permanent retention. 
The less interest or vividness of feeling concerned in an 
association of items, the less probable will it be for mem- 
ory to recall such items. In the second place, the aged 
pilgrim is not likely to engage in repeated association 
when the items to be associated lack in interest for 
him. Repeated association is, however, a necessity for 
ready and complete recollection. An old person will re- 
call for hours and hours scenes from his childhood and 
from early manhood and from middle- age ; but he will 
make but little effort to retain or to recall passing circum- 
stances. We thus see that the phenoraena of recollection 
in old age are accounted for mainly because interesting 
and repeated association have not prepared the memory 
for recollection. The gradual decay of the physical sys- 
tem and the modified reciprocal relation of body and mind 



I06 M K M O R Y, 

in the aged, also accounts for some phenomena. In the 
same way we may explain the memory of men engaged 
in FAVORITE OCCUPATIONS. The very fact that there is 
a favorite occupation, furnishes us the conclusion that 
such person is not interested in other spheres of life ; and 
that in consequence of this lack of interest, there is no fre- 
quency of repetition. Edison is likely to recall items of 
experience in his own favorite s^ere of electrical exper- 
iments ; but he is not so likely to recall what never con- 
cerns him enough to produce vividness of feeling or re- 
peated association. 

Sometimes a professional man says he can not recall 
names or dates or some other item. This is a common 
experience and is explained in the same way as the 
memory of the aged or of those engaged in a favorite oc- 
cupation. 

Mental Superiority and a Good Memory. — 

A good memory usually accompanies superior mental 
capacity. A good thinker may claim that he has a poor 
memory. What does he mean ? If you stop him a mo- 
ment, you will likely find that he means to say that he 
has a poor 7neckanical memory , or that his memory is good 
only in his particular department. In this he is right. 
A good reasoner often lacks mechanical memory, because 
he need not use his memory in a mechanical association 
of items. He must constantly aim at logical association 
of truths and facts, so that he may reach a logical conclu- 
sion. It is, indeed, impossible for a good reasoner, for a 
superior mental capacity, to be without a logical memory. 
No consequent step could ever be taken apart from a log- 
ical association with causative antecedents. While a good 
memory is not an absolute criterion of superior mental 
capacity, it is still true that a good memory usually ac- 
companies such general capacity. Thus we conclude 



MEMORY. 107 

with the nature of recollection, its manifold modifications 
in the presence of abnormal elements. 

RECOGNITION. 

56. 

Recognition is a subsequent knowing of items formerly asso- 
ciated in our own retention. 

Re -Association. — Recognition is the subjective func- 
tion of memory. In it we agaiii know items of our own 
experie7ice. We know these items in their exact relation 
of a former association. The time, the place, the cause 
and effect, the various environments indicated in the sub- 
jective relations of association, — all these or some of these 
re-associate themselves in our recognition. We might 
call recognition a re-association. Recognition may be ac- 
curate or inaccurate, complete or incomplete ; but recog- 
nition is never-the-less the ultimate function of memory. 

Recognition the Ultimate Function of Mem- 
ory. — Retention and recollection have no mission, no 
purpose unless recognition follows these as a consequent. 
In the first moment of recollection, there may be no re- 
cognition or but incomplete recognition ; but this is only 
for a moment When once an item has been recalled, 
recognition like a dawning light, soon spreads through 
the soul. Memory is distinctivbIvY rkcognitivk. 

Complete and Accurate Recognition. — Whether 
recognition proves to be complete and accurate depends 
on proper or improper retention and recollection. If re- 
tention was an association characterized by interest, em- 
phasis, repetition and other requisites, recollection will 
be ready, accurate and complete ; and resultant recogni- 
tion will also be accurate and complete. 



I08 MKMORY. 

Recognition a Connecting I^ink. — Every power 
of the mind depends for its activity upon recognition. 
Without it the products of memory and of imagination 
could not be distinguished, and the soul would be afloat 
in a vast uncertainty. Without recognition judgment 
could form no estimate of relations between the past and 
the present or the future. Without recognition reason- 
ing could not take a reliable step, and intuition would be 
an absurd power of the mind. 

Recognition Saves from Isolation. — It is re- 
cognition that makes our mental life a continuous stream 
and places each soul in an exact relation to the past, 
present and future. Without recognition conduct and 
character would be uncertain and isolated items of life. 

Human Affairs and Recognition, — Our rela- 
tion to our fellow-men depends upon recognition. Busi- 
ness, duty, engagement, accomplishment, reliability, 
continuation, — all these and myriads more have no mean- 
ing when recognition ceases. Each man has his particu- 
lar sphere in life and holds this sphere in relations possi- 
ble only on the basis of recognition. Recognition points 
out our friend or foe ; makes us a creditor or a debtor ; 
reveals us as teacher or learner ; as employer or em- 
ployed ; as man and wife ; as parent and child. All 
moral and religious and personal obligations are based 
upon accurate and complete recognition. 

Personal Identity and Recognition. — Our prop- 
er proof of personal identity is derived from conscious 
recogyiition. Recognition determines that pur present self 
is a continuation of our past §elf. Insanity interrupts 
memory, drops out recognition and loses the proof of per- 
sonal identity. It is for this reason that the insane man 
so often imagines himself as a king or an avenger. We 
never doubt that we are personally the same to-day as we 
were in childhood. We are sure of this identity because 



MEMORY. 109 

recognition tells us so. Recognition assures us of person- 
al identity and a consequent 7noral position in this world. 

Old AgG and Beyond the Grave, — Amid the 
evening shadows of life, recognition assures us that we 
are the very person whose past was one golden stream of 
noble living or a bitter struggle for existence or a woe- 
begone, agonized out-pouring of horrible wickedness. 
How beautiful is a pure old age ! Recognition replaces 
that dear old mother into her most lovely years ! Recog- 
nition lights up the soul of the weary, worn-out pilgrim, 
with the light of a beautiful past or it fills the soul with 
the terrors of hell. As long as there is breath, recogni- 
tion declares our sameness ©f person ; and we may readi- 
ly infer that, in a future world, memory, by its recogni- 
tions of all our past life, will be the basis of heaven's joy 
or hell's eternal agony. If the soul lives beyond the 
grave, so will recognition be found beyond the grave, and 
either excuse or accuse the soul in heaven's bliss or hell's 
eternal torment. The previous discussion resolves itself 
into the following : 

57. 

Since disease can only interrupt recollection and often makes 
recollection and recognition more vivid, we infer that future retri- 
bution may result from the recognition of a sinful life-time. 

58. 

Amid the evening shadows of life, by-gone delights recur to 
memory with vivid reality and even sorrow is robbed of its pain 
when we fondly recall the departed. 

Recognition of Sorrows. — Life is not all a con- 
tinued brightness. Dark clouds blacken every horizon 
with occasional gloom. The memory reports both phases 
of life to the aged sire and the aged mother ; but sorrows 



no MEMORY. 

are robbed of poignancy by the faithfulness of recognition. 
A mother does not think of her child as it might be if it 
still lived ; but she recalls it as it was — -a sweet little 
cherub. Melancholy recollection this may be ; but who 
would be deprived of its consolation ? 

QUALITIES AND KINDS OF MEMORY. 
59- 

If the functions of memory are retention, recollection and recog- 
nition, it may or may not possess strength, quickness and com- 
pleteness. 

^numeration of Qaalities. — The qualities of 
memory must be deduced from its functions. We retain 
with STRENGTH or with WEAKNESS ; we recall with 
QUICKNESS or with SI.OWNESS ; we recognize with COM- 
PI.ETENESS or with incompIvETENESS. The important 
qualities of memory are strength, weakness, quickness, 
slowness, completeness and incompleteness. Of course, 
every memory is variously modified by combinations of 
the above named qualities. The desirable qualities are 

STRENGTH, QUICKNESS, COMPI^ETENESS. 

^numeration of Kinds, — The important kinds of 
memory are known as good, poor, mechanicai. and 
ivOGiCAi.. A good memory is characterized by strength, 
quickness and completeness. A poor memory is charac- 
terized by weakness, slowness and incompleteness. A 
mecha7iical memory is characterized by arbitrary associa- 
tion ; it is apt to recollect imperfectly and to recognize 
incompletely. A logical memory is characterized by log- 
ical association ; it is likely to prove most satisfactory in 
recollection and recognition. The good memory is al- 
ways to be desired. The mechanical memory has its im- 
portant uses ; but a logical memory is the jewel of mas- 
ter-minds. 



MEMORY. Ill 

CUL rtVA TION OF MEMOR V. 
60. 

It is possible and necessary to improve the memory. Proper 
exercise will result in remarkab le ability. 

Remarkahle Results. — Persons noted for their good 
memory come to our notice in history. Cyrus remem- 
bered the names of all his generals. Demosthenes knew 
the twenty thousand citizens of Athens by name. Hor- 
tensius could, at the close of an auction, name all the ar- 
ticles sold and the price of each article. A Corsican boy 
could repeat thirty-six thousand names in the order in 
which he had heard them and then also in reverse order. 
Dr. Wallis of Oxford solved difficult problems and re- 
membered the answers for weeks. Buler, the blind 
mathematician, tested the mathematical work of two 
students, and his decision — a memory solution — was found 
to be correct. Magliabechi could, after reading the man- 
uscript of a new book, repeat the whole book ; he knew 
the exact title, shelf, and author of books on almost any 
subject. Homer's Iliad was committed to memory in 
modern times. Native power may partly account for 
these remarkable results ; but exercise surely was a deci- 
cisive element in each case. 

Directions for Cultivation, — Cultivation of any 
mental power must be a cultivation of the fiindions of 
that power. Hence, to cultivate memory is to improve 
our powers of retention, recollection and recognition ; our 
memory must be taught to retain with strength, to recall 
with quickness, and to recognize with completeness. The 
only way for improving the memory is to 2ise it in volun- 
tary retention, voluntary recollection, voluntary recogni- 
tion. Exercise is the law of all culture. Exercise for the 
memory must conform with the laws of association. The 



112 M IS MOR Y . 

student and teacher must aim to satisfy the primary and 
secondary laws ; it is important to keep the laws of asso- 
ciation before our mind when we study. The teacher 
should especially aim to satisfy the secondary laws of as- 
sociation. A memory exercised in accordance with these 
laws will become strong, quick and complete. What we 
commit, what we study, should be made an interesting 
association of items, an emphatic association, and a re- 
peated association. In other words, we should acquire 
knowledge with interest, under attention, and by repeti- 
tion. Interest, attention and review are most potent fac- 
tors in the cultivation of memory. 



0. IMAGINATION. 

6i. 

Imagination is that mental faculty by which we form ideal crea- 
tions. It is a distinct and voluntary power. 

Memory and imagination have one element in common. 
Both powers are image poivers, both are representative. 
The formation of the word imagination denotes the evi- 
dence of universal consciousness that there is such a 
power, and that it is especially an image- forming power. 
In its widest modifications, imagination may create pro- 
ducts that are not, strictly speaking, images, though im- 
age-creation is the ultimate tendency. 

A POWER— ITS RELATIONS. 

Sometimes it is daimed that what are called ideal cre- 
ations are the complex products of abstraction, sugges- 
tion, taste and other mental processes. This view seems 
to result from an imperfect analysis of mental energies 
and mental products. Abstraction, suggestion, recollec- 
tion and other energies of mind may often furnish their 
separate or combined materials, may be involved in the 
regulation of the most lofty efforts of the imagination ; 
but yet each of these energies is distinct from the constricc- 
tive function of imagination. We might as well claim 
that, because reaso7ii7ig upon some proposition in mathe- 
matics presupposes and involves all of the intellectual fac- 
ulties, reasoning is not a distinct function, and hence not 
a distinct faculty. Of course, this would be a scientific 
folly as unpardonable as want of definite basis and want 
of classification can make anything in the sphere of 



114 IMAGINATION. 

science. Let us notice the inter-relation of other mental 
functions and that of imagination. Such an analysis must 
determine the truth. 

Perception and Imagination. — Perception may 
conduct our mind into immediate sense- contiguity with 
some object. The sensation and the resultant percept 
are both products of perception, and the mind may 
seize upon both as a suggestive ground- work for ideal 
creation. This is a common experience. lyovely blos- 
soms, sighing breezes or luxuriant fragrance, readily urge 
the energy of mind into a creative effort. Lovely blos- 
soms suggest a simile or metaphor ; sighing breezes may 
suggest the soul set free and passing by ; luxuriant fra- 
grance may suggest abundant, over- flowing joy. The 
imagination weaves these products of perception and sug- 
gestion into more lofty, more delicate, more concrete re- 
presentations. 

Recollection and Imagination. — When the past 
sensation and percept have faded into recollection, the 
simple images of memory in the moment of recognition 
furnish a suggestive ground- work for ideal creation. 
These images affect the imagination like an inspiration. 
The images of memory incite and encourage the creative 
faculty of our mind. It is thus that Imagination dares 
to attempt its loftiest flight. The book of nature and the 
book of art are reproduced and represented in memory 
with almost a divine effect upon the imagination. In 
these efforts of the imagination there is no copying, no 
exact transcript, no old products ; but wholly new combin- 
ations or new creations. The products of memory were 
only a suggestive source of inspiration. 

Judgment and Taste. — When imagination * 'bodies 
forth the forms of things unknown and gives to airy noth- 
ing a local habitation and a name," the creative faculty 
is in its own distinct sphere. Judgment may serve as a 



IM AGI NATION . II5 

regulative presence, as an arbiter of the particular form 
the created structure is to assume ; or, in the sphere of 
taste, it may limit ^^ flight of imagination, may restrain 
from unsavory and repulsive products ; but imagination 
will create some "local habitation," some ideal product ; 
will put forth its creative energy somehow, whether judg- 
ment and taste be present or not. This distinction is 
manifest in the products of poesy, painting, oratory and 
all the spheres of ideal creation. The imagination of a 
child is sufficiently active, though often unchided by taste 
or regulated by judgment. It is likewise in the imagin- 
ing of the insane, the poetaster, the would-be artist, and 
in delirium. When imagination has bodied forth its ideal 
forms, the ordinary comparisons and classifications of 
judgment may be performed as upon any concrete object of 
sense, or as upon the ideas and truths of intuition. Judg- 
ment here operates upon the products of imagination and 
must be distinct from the producing cause of such pro- 
ducts, distinct from imagination. 

Reasoning and Imagination, — M the operations 
of imagination and zipo^t the products of imagination, rea- 
soning maj/, and usually does, perform its distinct func- 
tion. In the voluntary phase of imagination, the dispos- 
ing- and significance of the created products belong to 
reasoning. Without reasoning, imagination could be 
nothing but an erratic energy, such as it often is in dreams, 
insanity and our wandering fancies. While all this is 
true, we can readily distinguish between the energy of 
imagination and the energy of reasoning. The two are 
often associated and the exact character of either energy 
may depend upon this association ; but all these possibil- 
ities imply not one, but two energies. 

Intuition. — Intuition furnishes primary ideas and 
truths, fundamental notions of time, space, cause, identity, 
the true, and the beautiful. All these notions limit and 
6 



Il6 IMAGINATION. 

modify \hi energy and the products of imagination ; but 
to limit and to modify presuppose somethiyig to be limited 
and modified. This something is a product of imagina- 
tion. Thus we notice again that intuition and imagina- 
tion are distinct energies, the one implying the other. 
The ultimate purpose of these faculties is also wholly dif- 
ferent. All other faculties preseiit, i^epresent, compare, 
deal with or furnish the true ; but imagination never con- 
cerns itself with the true, the actual, the necessary, the 
absolute. Imagination is the power of ideal creation ; it is 
a distinct power, distinct from every other mental energy. 
Having noticed imagination in its distinct sphere among 
the powers of the mind, we are ready to inquire into the 
exact nature of the process. We shall denote this process 
of the imagination by the word imagining. What, then, 
is the exact character and what are the modifications of 
imagining ? 

IMAGINATION AND SUGGESTION. 

Suggestion, — At this point it is proper to notice the 
law of suggestion in its application to imagining. Sug- 
gestion renders ideal creation possible. Suggestion, how- 
ever, does not make the mind a passive receptivity, a re- 
ceptivi_ty subordinate to something superior in the shape 
of suggestion. The mind is an originative energy. In 
its activity it conforms with certain laws of mini. Sug- 
gestion is a law of mind, and when mind puts forth its 
creative energy, the imagination finds suggestive sourc- 
es, — sources adapted to the function of imagination. It 
is true that there are suggestive materials for the mind to 
work upon ; but it is also true that these materials have 
no suggesting power m themselves. Apart from a particu- 
lar mental energy there would be no suggestion. In 



IMAGINATION. II7 

other words, suggestion is not a power, but a law of mind. 
As such it is also a law for the imagination. 

SUGGESTIVE SOURCES FOR IMAGINING. 

Pive Sense- Apprehensions. — Several mental fac- 
ulties furnish suggestive sources from which imagina- 
tion starts out in its operations. Perception furnishes 
perhaps the mass of this material. Intuition determines 
the limitations and modifications of imagination ; but 
what has come in through any sense- gateway is pre-emi- 
nently a source of suggestion for imagination. All the 
senses furnish their peculiar products — none is excluded. 
Sight appears to have the predominant suggestive infiu- 
ence. Hearing furnishes many suggestions to the imag- 
ination. But imagination is not confined to these sourc- 
es. It is true that the eye and ear furnish most suggest- 
ive materials ; but each sense must bring in its share, as 
we shall see. A beautiful face readily suggests to the 
artist an ideal face — a face that may haunt him until he 
has chiseled it in marble or penciled it on canvas. A 
simple melody may suggCvSt to a master musician the 
divine chorus embodied in the oratorios of immortal fame. 
Raphael and Mozart live in our own soul, and catch for 
us the inspirations of sight and sound as they come in 
through vision and hearing. The touch of a hand may 
thrill the soul into the wildest ecstasy of pure ideal crea- 
tion ; the touch of a reptile goes shivering through our 
soul in the fierce hurry of a crazed imagination. We can 
imagine flavors far more delicious than that of the choicest 
fruit, and we can imagine fragrance intensely more de- 
lightful than that of the most precious perfume the world 
ever experienced. Every one can multiply illustrations 
under this heading. In the immediate presence of sensi- 
ble objects, therefore, imagination finds its sources of in- 



Il8 IMAGINATION. 

spiration, sources that encourage this faculty to soar into 
divine domains or into the horrible shadows of the mys- 
terious evil. 

Recollection and Recognition, — Memory also 
furnishes suggestive materials for the imagination. Per- 
ception and memory might be called preparatory activi- 
ties in this relation. Perception is a receiving agent and 
memory a reproducing agent. What perception has 
gathered into the mind is recalled and recognized in sim- 
ple representations. These representations incite the im- 
agination into ideal inspiration ; and under the suggest- 
ive touch of these old products, the imagination soars into 
new worlds, constructs its own ideals, modifies the old 
products into new combinations and dares to create its 
own new products. The exact transcript of recollection 
is recognized as a subjective experience ; but the modified 
transcript and the original creation are cognized as some- 
thing beyond what perception ever experienced or mem- 
ory ever recognized. Memory transfers the old man into 
the domain of the past ; he sees again his child-hood 
years, hears again his mother's voice, stands again in the 
active energies of manhood. But imagination transfers 
the old man into a future ideal world ; he sees his future 
home , hears angelic voices ; shouts his praises in the 
presence of sainted beings around God's throne. 

IMA GIN A TION A T WORK. 

62, 

Imagining may be voluntary or involuntary. 

The Process, — Unless consciousness furnish the 
proof that imagining is voluntary, we can not classify it 
as a faculty properly so called. But we do know that 
it is a voluntary activity of the mind. We can dispose 



IMAGINATION. IIQ 

our mind to the reception of suggestive influence, we 
can resolve to work out rhetorical figures, we can vol- 
untarily conceive a "local habitation," we can volun- 
tarily construct symphonies never heard before by hu- 
man ear or suug by any choir. It is true that our wan- 
dering fancies are involuntary, uncalled for, unbidden 
intruders at times, mysterious presences of which we 
would gladly rid ourselves if we could ; but it is equally 
true that carricature, wit, humor, the sublime and the 
beautiful in oratory, music, literature and other arts, are 
the direct products of voluntary energy. It would be 
little less than madness to say that the grand epics of 
Homer and Milton were involuntary products, the result 
of impulses upon the mind in a passive, unresisting con- 
dition. Wherever time and reconstruction and regulation 
are involved in a mental process, voluntary effort is con- 
cerned. In our dreams, in superstitious fear, in fanati- 
cism, in disease, imagination leaps beyond the confines of 
volition and hurries the soul hither and thither like the 
tiny boat in an ocean storm ; but in the full possesion of 
a normal mind, Raphael voluntarily works out his ideal 
creations, Demosthenes weaves his subtle logic into con- 
crete forms, Mozart winds his way into our inmost soul, 
touching every chord with his magic chorus, and Shakes- 
peare ' 'bodies forth the forms of things unknown and gives 
to airy nothing a local habitation and a name." This 
voluntary effort is always active. 

Always Active in Its Operation. — It is some- 
times stated that imagination is passive as well as active. 
It is claimed that reading a poem or listening to eloquent 
music implies nothing more than a passive imagination 
'upon which the writer or the musician works. Such a 
distinction seems not to be the result of proper analysis. 
Perhaps the word receptive and origiiiative indicate more 
nearly the difference denoted. We might also vSpeak of 



I20 IMAGINATION. 

originative and reproductive capacity ; but when we make 
these distinctions they refer only to degrees of activity. 
Dore's imagination was certainly active in his ideal ,con- 
ception of Dante's Inferno, or else he could never have 
represented Dante's pen-pictures by such suggestive 
drawings as now accompany the "Inferno." The musi- 
cian that interprets Beethoven and Bach, touching his 
own heart with tremendous throbbings and the heart of arf 
audience with kindred throbbings, can be inferior only to 
Bach and Beethoven in activity. 

Reproductive and Productive. — This difference 
of activity may be denoted by productive and reproduce 
tive, originative and receptive ; but not by the words ac- 
tive and passive. The fact that not every one has sufficient 
ideal power to conceive the Iliad or the Transfiguration 
is not a proof that such inability is the result of a passive 
imagination. It means simply that some men have more 
imagination and some less. The amount is determined 
by native difference and by cultivation. That this is true, 
we know from the history of art and from personal prog- 
ress in literature or oratory or music. 

Pliilosophic Imagination, — Some writers also 
speak of a philosophic imagination. If by this they mean 
creative effoi't of the mind under the impulses of reason and 
philosophy, we might grant the point ; but if they mean 
the imagination necessary for the inventor or the scien- 
tist, we are hardly ready to admit the correctness of the 
term. The architect conceives a grand structure in the 
ordinary process of voluntary imagination ; he combines 
old materials into new combinations, and that is all. The 
inventor may make a "sacred guess at the truth" ; but 
this sacred guess is more than a guess — it is a syllogistic 
stepping from the known to the unknown — it is a search 
after the true. Imagination proper does not concern itself 
with the tnie. The scientist conceives hypotheses ; but 



IMAGINATION. 121 

he, too, ivS trying to find the truth. Hypothesis may in- 
volve ordinary imagination, but it is, in itself, a reflective 
process. The reflective process does not constitute an ele- 
ment of the imaginative effort, and hardly justifies the 
term philosophic imagination. 

IDEAL PRODUCTS. 

The products of imagination are of several kinds. 
These kinds are determined by the presence or absence 
of old material. The resultant modifications are as vari- 
ous as the effects of matter and mind can make them. We 
speak, in the first place, of ideal combinations. 

Ideal Combinations. — By ideal combinations we 
mean those products of imagination in which old materi- 
als of perception and memory are combined into new 
forms. These new combinations may result from modifi- 
cations in the following respects : i. Material. 2. Size. 
3. Shape. 4. Color. 5. Positio7i, etc. Imagination may 
construct a palace of rubies and diamonds ; may conceive 
of a gnat as large as a pea-cock, or a lion as small as a 
rat. We can imagine the shape of our eyes changed into 
cubes, or we can think of the hoofs of a horse shaped like 
a fan. We can imagine a blue orange, a black tooth, a 
green eye, a purple forest and a red river. We can im- 
agine the Normal School built upon a mountain peak or 
floating on a lake. We can imagine a being with eight 
heads placed one upon each of eight surfaces. Thus it is 
possible to transform every thing that we have ever 
known. 

Ideal Creations, — By new creations we mean pro- 
ducts merely suggested to the imagination and built up 
wholly of ideal concepts. These creations are not recol- 
lections, not copies, not the old. Such creations may in- 
clude the following : I. Ideal objects. 2. Idealized ob- 



122 IMAGINATION. 

jects. 3. Ideal forms. 4. Ideal events. 5. Ideal char- 
acters, etc. We can imagine a flower not possessing a?iy 
quality of known flowers. We can imagine objects made 
up of materials never known. We can idealize a known 
object into such divine perfection that the ideal is a wholly 
new product. The painter conceives an ideal face and 
figure. It is not a copy ; it is a new product simply sug- 
gested by some face that the painter had seen. A.11 art, 
all genuine art, tends to idealize objects until the ideal 
is a pure creation of the imagination. We can imagine, 
as we do in Geometry, a transparent solid, a form ethereal, 
except its bounding lines or surfaces. We can imagine a 
cube of space thus bounded. The mathematician is con- 
stantly constructing such ideal forms. Circles, ellipses, 
cycloids and all the host of mathematical conceptions, are 
almost wholly ideal forms. The novelist and the poet 
create ideal evejits. Ben-Hur, I^ucile, Jane Kyre, and 
Comus, contain many illustrations of ideal events. Every 
novelist and every poet must deal largely with such 
events. We can create ideal characters and make them 
act out an ideal destiny. Shakespeare is the great mas- 
ter-creator of ideal characters. We almost grasp these 
characters hy the hand or hear them in their magic elo- 
quence. 

Character of Products, — The products differ in 
loftiness and purity of character. Carricature, wit, hu- 
mor, the beautiful, the sublime ; — these are successively 
more lofty and more purely ideal. Carricature has its 
mission, and has taken a place in political and social 
spheres. Wit is a teacher, though often as savage as 
satire or lampoon. Humor spreads a kindly glow over 
millions of weary hearts and worried brains. The Beau- 
tiful brings balm and healing ; the Sublime raises human 
life out of its bare confines into an ideal world of divine 



IMAGINATION. 123 

grandeur. All these products are traceable in hisloiy. 
We shall presently refer to the mission of the ideal. 

DRAPERY OF IDEAL PRODUCTS. 

The creations of imagination, in their solemn grandeur and their 
lighter fancies, must be vested in sensible drapery. 

By sensible drapery is meant that the words or means of 
representing ideal creations must be such as seem to bring 
the creation into contact with our senses. 

Sense ^imitations, — Ideal creations of oratory and 
poetry reach us through the ear and eye. Oratory , 
poetry, instruction, fiction, painting, music, architecture 
and sculpture, reach us through eye and ear. 

Material and Meiital I/imitation. — Since ideal 
creations must come to us like concrete realities, their 
drapery is further bounded by the conditions and laws of 
matter and mind. Imagination is, therefore, bounded by 
space, time, properties of matter and laws of mind. 

Space. — We can not imagine no space, we can not im- 
agine anything beyond space and we can not imagine 
not anything that does not occupy space. 

jTime. — We can not imagine anything as occurring 
outside of time, we can not imagine no time, we can 
not imagine anything previous to or beyond time. 

Matter, — Matter has certain essential properties, such 
as extension, size, figure, density, compressibility, mo- 
bility and situation. We can not imagine anything as 
not having extension, size, figure, etc. 

Mind. — Mind has definite spheres of activity and 
necessary consciousness, We can not imagine a mind 
as acting apart from consciousness, we can not imagine a 
new faculty, though we can imagine the absence of one or 
more. 

6^-^ 



124 IMAGINATION. 

MISSION OF IDEAL CREA TIONS. 

Imagination raises human life out of its bare confines into a 
world sublime and beautiful. 

Practical, — What a dull world ours would be for 
many a poor mortal, had God not tuned our daily toils 
with ideal music and touched all with a coloring of the 
sublime and the beautiful ! Imagination adds inspiration 
to human life. It elevates us through nature and art ; it 
makes our mental life a concrete stream. Oratory re- 
ceives from imagination a persuasive sway that moves a 
slumbering world. The orator himself is thus enabled to 
clothe hard logic, abstract truth, in feelings and force 
that touch the hardest heart. Instruction would be a 
weary, soul-less plodding, without imagination in the 
teacher or the pupil. Imagination makes abstract thoughts 
stand out concrete and thus places unpalatable notions in- 
to palatable forms. The common school branches can 
nearly all be more pleasantly taught when imagination is 
called into active play. Imagination is the soul of paint- 
ing and sculpture. Through it the artist transforms cold 
marble and dead colors into a living, breathing creation. 
Architecture has no flavor, meets no responsive spectator, 
when imagination has not delicately touched the rough 
timber into dainty metaphors. Poetry and fiction are 
without a meaning, lose their essence of the beautiful and 
sublime imagery when the writer lacks imagination. In- 
deed, both poetry and fiction are impossible apart from 
creative energy. Music touched into a living thing by 
imagination wafts the hearer into the presence of God's 
throne. Without imagination music is only a lifeless, 
meaningless voice or tune. The keys must be touched by 
the finger of the sublime and the beautiful ; it is then that 



IMAGINATION. 125 

a magic magnetism touches voice and hand. God given, 
divine is this creative faculty ! 

Personal Ideals and Destiny, — The highest 
mission of the imagination is beautifully portrayed by Dr. 
Haven. ' 'Especially is it of value in forming and hold- 
ing before the mind an ideal of excellence in whatever 
we pursue, a standard of attainment, practicable and de- 
sirable, but loftier far than anything we have yet reached. 
No man ever yet attained excellence, in any art or pro- 
fession, who had not floating before his mind, by day and 
by night, such an ideal and vision of what he might and 
ought to be and to do. It hovers before him, and hangs 
over him, like the bow of promise and of hope, advanc- 
ing with his progress, ever rising, and moving onward as 
he moves ; he will never reach it, but without it he would 
never be what he is." No man can speak more exactly 
of the sphere of the creative faculty. "I dreamt I dwelt 
in marble halls' ' is an ideal of excellence toward which 
every great soul will struggle with the intensest energies. 
When this ideal fades out of our vision, then come despair, 
desolation and the end. 

DEPRA VI TY OF IMA GIN A TION. 

Imagination when unrestrained and unhealthy, may infect body 
and soul with despondency and fanaticism. 

Sarly Activity, — We have looked upon imagination 
in her beautiful robes ; but she often comes in a hideous 
garb of depravity. Of almost angelic beauty in destiny 
and capacity, .she may become the most vicious of all the 
mental faculties. The little child is not usually possessed 
of a sluggish imagination. There is usually an undue 
energy of imagination in child-life ; and this energy de- 



126 IMAGINATION. 

velops early in life. The little boy rides his ideal horse 
with a broomstick to make it tangible. The little girl 
talks to her ideal doll, fondles it with a mother's care and 
hears the little "dolly" laugh or weep. The dreamy boy 
is wrapt in sweet melancholy, gazing in upon a world all 
his own ; and the maiden fair forgets the presence of 
those around her, in a wrapt gaze upon some ideal crea- 
tion of her mind. 

Unhealthy Products, — Kvil suggestions, too, may 
inspire the child's imagination. It is a terrible thing to 
permit evil suggestion to incite our imagination. An un- 
restrained and unhealthy imagination is like a hell in life. 
The child is driven into hysterical fright under the spur 
of undue imagination. Hideous spectres follow many a 
child and man when travelling through some shadowy 
woods in the dusk of twilight. Ghosts and hob- goblins 
are the creations of depraved imagination. The inno- 
cent, blackened stump becomes a horrible monster with 
devouring jaws and gnashing teeth. The will-o'-the- 
wisp, that wandering, flickering gas-light, becomes a de- 
mon pursuing an innocent mortal until in agony, he is 
robbed of his senses. The dime-novel hero is trans- 
formed by imagination into a model hero, and the ideal 
cow-boy leaves his paternal homestead to take his place 
in the ideal West. The hero and the heroine of drama 
and tragedy are looked upon by the young girl as lofty 
ideals for which she often deserts the happy environments 
of home and friendship, going down perhaps into the 
slums of sin. Delirium tremens, through the medium of 
the body, drives imagination into frenzy and seats upon 
her throne all the wild demons of hell. Deceived by a 
depraved imagination, a well known scientist compiled a 
vast religious system, and upon the system is founded a 
church of considerable membership. Through a depraved 
imagination even the good Book is made an instrun^ent 



IMAGINATION. I27 

of evil. lycd on by such frenzy, men have felt themselves 
called upon to offer up their only child in imitation of 
the "father of faith," or to drive the assassin's dagger 
into the noblest statesmen of modern times. Imagination 
yearly lays its thousand victims in the grave of disap- 
pointed love, failure in business or ambition. Under 
nervous exhaustion, the imagination often assumes al- 
most dictatorial authority over us. The medical pro- 
fession is well acquainted with the effects of a depraved 
imagination upon the body. We all recall the test made, 
by the students of a medical school, upon a healthy young 
farmer. By a conspiracy they succeeded to work upon 
his imagination until he lay sick unto death. The reve- 
lation of the plot saved the farmer from actual death. 
We also recall the test made upon the four Russian con- 
victs, and the consequence. 

CUL TIVA TION OF IMA GIN A TION. 
66, 

The elevating influence of a healthy imagination and the deprav- 
ity of an unhealthy imagination make the cultivation of this facul- 
ty important. The teacher can find means in nature and art. 

Cautions, — We should be careful to subordinate the 
activity of imagination to every other faculty of the mind ; 
or, at any rate, to keep it on a level with the other facul- 
ties. When imagination obtains superior sway, perception 
and memory become untruthful, judgment is clouded, rea- 
soning is deceived, and intuition is robbed of her mission. 

The Special Agent, — The special agent for the 
cultivation of imagination is the teacher of our schools. 
His mission is cultivation and scholarship. 

Materials and Means, — Art and nature furnish 
the proper books. The master- productions in music, or- 



128 IMAGINATION. 

atory, fiction, poetry, painting, sculpture, and architec- 
ture are to be sought and studied. Nature ever lies an 
open book when Art refuses admission. Proper perception 
and recollection are natural preparations. Actual imagin- 
ing, actual creation, is the proper exercise. The follow- 
ing enumeration seems to comprehend the proper items 
for cultivating the imagination. 

1. Observing the sublime and beautiful. 

2. Recalling the sublime and beautiful. 

3. As found in art and nature. 

4. Original creations. 

The last item invites illustration. I^et us take for our 
subject, "Crossing into the Beyond." A wide, deep and 
shadowy stream flows rushing by in our vision. A single 
little boat is struggling across toward the other shore. 
TheSoul and the boatman, Death, occupy the boat. Si- 
lent and gaunt they reach the Beyond. The Soul passes 
out of the boat, and the boatman returns. The Soul enters 
the rapturous, beautiful world bej^ond. All the sons and 
daughters of heaven break forth into a beautiful choru 
of welcome. Like gems and precious jewels, the streets 
beyond reflect their splendor upon the soul, and in the 
supremest joy the soul beholds the Master. 



UNDERSTANDING : PREPARATORY VIEW. 

67. 

The thought-energy of mind is called Understanding. The 
Understanding is reflective ; its products are ideas and thoughts. 

Character and Products. — Perception is the mind's 
furnishing agent ; memory retains exact transcripts of the 
percepts furnished ; imagination modifies percepts and 
creates new forms. Tiie Understanding is the work -shop 
of the mind ; it is a reflective energy ; it turns over the 
furnished products of perception, memory and imagina- 
tion, etc. The Understanding works by synthesis and 
by analysis. It combines necessary parts and tears apart 
component parts ; it works by combination and separa- 
tion. The products of the Understanding are ideas and 
thoughts. Reflection, synthesis, analysis, induction and 
deduction are the decisive characteristics of the Under- 
standing. 

Psychological Mission, — Perception and Intuition 
may be called the mind's original sources of ideas and 
truths. Upon these ideas and truths the Understanding 
opera'tes, shaping and moulding the furnished materials 
into desirable and useful forms. The Understanding is 
the mind's great chemical laboratory. 

68. 

The several functions of the understanding are preparatory 
and ultimate. 

Preparatory and Ultimate Functions.— AW 

the functions of the understanding will be found to be 
preparatory and ultimate. In the study of the memory 



130 UNDERSTANDING. 

it was found that, though there are three logically neces- 
sary functions, there is only one ultimate function for 
which the others are preparatory. In the study of the 
understanding we shall find a similar relation of functions. 
Though there are five reflective functions, there is one 
common characteristic of all these functions, namely, 
COMPARISON. Because of this common characteristic all 
the functions are included under the one term under- 
standing. 

In reality, however, several of these functions differ so 
essentially that we speak of two faculties of the under- 
standing. The functions of the former faculty are four 
in number, and are logically preparatory and ultimate. 
There is only one function in the latter faculty. 

69. 

The functions of the understanding are direct comparison, ab- 
straction, generalization, classification, and mediate comparison. 

TO, 

Direct comparison is a comparison of two objects without a 
medium. 

Direct Comparison. — This function is based upon 
perceived qualities. Child and man can make direct 
comparisons. When we look at two peaches we at once 
notice agreement or disagreement in si2:e or complexion. 
In this case two objects are compared without a medium, 
directly upon the basis of like or unlike qualities per- 
ceived. The purpose of direct comparison is to detect 
likeness or unlikeness ; to classify according to likeness 
or unlikeness. 

Abstraction, — Abstraction will be discussed by and 
by ; but for the present we remark that abstraction is the 
process by which the mind forms a notion of qiialities 



UNDERSTANDING. I3I 

apart from things ; it is an analytic process. By abstrac- 
tion we obtain such original notions as kindness, hard- 
ness, color. 

Generalization. — Generalization is a synthesis of 
abstract ideas ; it is the process of mentally uniting all 
common qualities of a class of objects into one complex 
notion, such as man, horse, stone. 

Classification, — Classification is a sorting process in 
which the mind places together all like objects upon the 
basis of likeness. If the likeness is mechanical or math- 
ematical we speak of common classification ; but if the 
likeness is essential and structural we speak of scientific 
classification. Book-cases and Botany are examples re- 
spectively of common and scientific classification. 

Mediate Comparison. — Mediate comparison differs 
from direct comparison in nature and purpose. It is based 
upon relations rather than upon qualities. In mediate 
comparison only two objects are compared, but the com- 
parison is made through a related medium. In other 
words, the comparison is one of relation. 

Illustration. — A and B are alike by direct compar- 
ison ; but B and C are also alike by direct comparison ; 
therefore, because both A and C are like B, we conclude 
that A must be like C. The final step is mediate com- 
parison and is based upon a cognition of the relation of 
likeness. Likeness, or similarity, is a decisive relation 
in mediate comparison, or Reasoning. The distinctions 
between direct comparison and mediate comparison are 
thus summarized : 

DIRECT COMPARISON VS. MEDIA TE COM- 
PARISON. 

Summary. — Direct comparison is based upon per- 
ceived qualities ; but mediate comparison is based upon 



132 UNDERSTANDING. 

cognized relations. Direct comparison aims to detect 
agreement or difference ; but mediate comparison aims to 
arrive at conclusions. Direct comparison implies only 
two objects ; but mediate comparison implies a third 
common object. These essential distinctions indicate the 
existence of two distinct faculties of the understanding. 

Inference. — From the foregoing investigation we in- 
fer that there are two distinct reflective powers. To the 
former we refer the preparatory and final functions of di- 
rect comparison, abstraction, generalization and classifi- 
cation ; to the latter we refer mediate comparison. In 
this connection it is proper to notice that direct compari- 
son, or Judgment, is involved in all mediate comparison, 
or Reasoning. The reverse does not hold true. We con- 
clude finally that the two decisive faculties of the Under- 
standing are Judgment and Reasoning. 



D. JUDGMENT. 

71- 

Judgment is that mental faculty by which we compare and clas- 
sify. It is an active and voluntary power of the mind. 

General Character. — Direct comparison, abstrac- 
tion, generalization and classification have been charac- 
terized as preparatory and ultimate functions of Judgment. 
The decisive function is direct comparison ; the purpose of 
direct comparison is to detect likeness or unlikeness. A 
reason for this detection can be found only in the ultimate 
process of classification. But classification in its exact 
sense implies general bases or class-notions ; and hence 
classification implies generalization, the mental process of 
conceiving class- notions. But generalization implies con- 
scious or subconscious abstraction, the mind's process of 
arriving at first notions of qualities. 

Illustration. — A child compares two oranges. The 
child detects likeness or unlikeness ; it classes the oranges 
according to this likeness or unlikeness. But this classifi- 
cation implies in the child the general class-notion of an 
orange ; and this class-notion is the product of generaliza- 
tion. But if the child has generalized, it has previously 
abstracted orange qualities : these qualities it now synthe- 
sizes. 

DIRECT COMPARISON. 

Direct comparison is a comparison of two objects. 

Nature and Domain. — Direct comparison is the 
synthetic process of noticing two objects in proximity, in 



134 JUDGMKNT. 

order to detect their agreement or difference. The domain 
of comparison is a practical one, leading to the sorting or 
classifying processes of daily life. We began to compare 
objects upon the basis of perceived qualities when we 
were quite young ; and we will continue to compare men, 
things and thoughts as long as life shall last. 

Process and Basis. — In the basket before me are a 
dozen specimens of luscious fruit. I pick out an attractive 
specimen, taste it, and am delighted. I want all similar 
specimens, but cannot for some time see another specimen 
of like color ; I look from the tasted one to others in suc- 
cession, in order to detect agreement of color and perhaps 
shape. This is direct comparison ; it is a synthetic pro- 
cess, and is based upon perceived qualities. The classifi- 
cation or selection may be faulty unless a sufficiently large 
number of perceived qualities formed the basis of compari- 
son. 

73' 

The design of direct comparison is the detection of likeness oi 
unlikeness. 

Design of Direct Comparison, — In the process 
just described no selection was made until, by direct com- 
parison, two objects were found to agree in assumed re- 
spects. In other words, the cognition of agreement or 
disagreement was preparatory to selection, to classifica- 
tion. The direct comparisons of practical life are often 
based upon too few perceived qualities. In such cases we 
speak of a faulty judgment, and blame its possessor. 

Illustration. — Two men pass us in a crowded street. 
We know that the one is a rascal ; but the other is like 
him in complexion, size, and speech. We classify this 
other man in the class of rascals. The classification is 
wrong because the direct comparivSon was wrong. We 



JUDGMENT . 135 

buy a basket of nuts. A number of them are by direct 
comparison found to agree in color ^ form, and weight. We 
select all these and class them into a box ; we do so be- 
cause the one we tried had the same color, form, and 
weight. Our selection is often likely to include several 
bad nuts. 

74' 

Direct comparison is a preparation for common classification. 

Direct Comparison Preparatory. — The common 
classifications of practical life are based upon direct com- 
parison. Common classification differs from scientific 
classification in that the former is imperfect, superficial, 
hasty. We arrange the books in our library according to 
detected agreement in size or coior ; we sort our water- 
melons and apples on the basis of presumed ripeness. In 
other words, direct comparison is the basis of common 
classification. Illustrations should be added. 

The proximity of objects compared makes direct comparison a 
synthetic process. 

Proximity and Synthesis, — When two objects are 
compared, we do not separate the two objects from each 
other, but we bring them into the closest possible proxim- 
ity. This proximity makes the resemblance or contrast 
more striking to perception. For this reason we say that 
direct comparison is a synthetic process. Two books, two 
flowers, two thoughts, two ideas, two facts, two ideals, 
two sentiments, are more striking in their resemblance or 
contrast in proportion to the proximity of the two things 
compared. When we compare a percept with a concept- 
the same condition is necessary. The concept is mental, 



136 JUDGMENT. 

ly placed near the percept, and then the process of com- 
parison is readily performed. 

The memory -tree of my childhood years is placed side 
by side with the percept- tree in my view at this moment, 
and the condition of direct comparison is fulfilled. Two 
percepts are thus compared and two concepts likewise. 
The percept- plum is thus compared with the percept- 
peach and found to disagree in several respects. The 
concept- Comus is thus compared with the concept- Ariel, 
and is found to disagree in a number of characteristics. 
This necessary condition of proximity makes 'direct com- 
parison a synthetic process. 

76. 

Direct comparison results in thoughts and propositions. 

Products of Direct Comparison, — A thought is 
the combination of at least two related ideas. A thought 
is also called a judgment. A thought expressed in words 
is called a proposition. An idea is a simple notion ; it 
may be stated in a single word or a phrase, as poet or at 
his home. Direct comparison always results in thoughts. 

Illustration. — Having the general idea of poet, we com- 
pare Tennyson with this general idea and find agreeme?it. 
Quick as said, the classification follows, TKnnyson is a 
POET. Direct comparison based upon generalization and 
abstraction thus constitutes the main source of language. 
The possibility of language depends upon man's power to 
form thoughts and propositions. 

77' 

Direct comparison is always involved in mediate comparison, 
or Reasoning. 

Direct Comparison Involved in Reasoning, — 

In mediate comparison, or reasoning, the mind passes 



JUDGME^NT. 137 

from one proposition to another related proposition and 
thus arrives at a necessary conclusion. Hence reasoning 
involves three propositions, two related propositions and 
one resultant proposition. In other words, reasoning in- 
volves direct comparison in the formation of its premises 
and in its conclusions. 

Illustration. 

Poets make sublime and beautiful verse ; 

But Milton makes sublime and beautiful verse ; 

Hence Milton is a poet. 

In this illustration are found three thoughts, three 
propositions, three judgments. The process of deriving 
the third proposition from the related premises is mediate 
comparison, because Milton and Poets are compared, not 
directly but through a third term. This third term is the 
phrase sublime and beautiful verse. Each proposition or 
thought was primarily the result of direct comparison. 
In other words, direct comparison is always involved in 
mediate comparison, or reasoning. 

ABSTRACTION. 

78. 

Abstraction is the analytic acquiring of our first notion of pure 
quality. 

Nature and Domain. — Objects of sense-perception 
are known as having certain qualities. As long as we 
know these qualities i?i the object, the quality is a con- 
crete or percept- quality. But when we have acquired a 
notion of a quality apart from its association with this or 
that object, the quality may be called piire quality, ab- 
stract quality. Our Jirst notion of any quality is a pure 
abstract idea ; this first notion of any quality is thorough- 
ly particular ; it is the product of abstraction. Abstrac- 



138 JUDGMKNT. 

tion, as we notice, is an analytic acquiring of a quality- 
idea. The mind separates a quality from its concrete con- 
nection with a particular thing, and makes the quality an 
object of thought. Quality-ideas, such as are named 
in adjectives and absti'-act nouns^ are pure abstract ideas 
only when we first acquire them. All these notions be- 
come general in our second experience. 

Illustratiori of Absti^adion. — A plum lies on the table 
before us ; we have never seen a plum before this moment. 
Our first definite notion of plum- color apart from its con- 
crete existence in this particular plum is a pure abstract 
idea. The mental process involved in acquiring this idea 
was analytic and is known as abstraction. Every one is 
constantly performing abstractions in learning new quali- 
ty-ideas. 

Relation of Abstraction to Perception,— Omv 
first knowledge of mother- kindness, iron-hardness, glass- 
brittleness, etc., is a concrete knowledge ; we do not think 
of these qualities apart from perception, apart from moth- 
er, iron, glass. Even when we remember these qualities 
they at first are concrete and at once suggest the object in 
which they were experienced ; but as soon as we make 
any quality a distinct object of thought and no longer as- 
sociate the quality with a particular object, or indeed with 
any object, so soon the quality- notion has become really 
abstract. The idea is not usually an image, but rather a 
notion, a distinct or indistinct notion, an impression that 
may be indefinable, yet a something real, a conscious or 
sub-conscious mental representation of some quality. 

Analytic Character, — Abstraction is an analytic 
process because the quality in question must be drawn 
away from all objects ; the disembodied quality is set free 
from its concrete home in an object. Gradually all abstract 
notions become general, and include various shades and 



JUDGMENT. 139 

degrees ; but at first the quality- notion is thoroughly j^ar- 
ticular in its origin. This may be said of such notions as 
plum-color, courtesy, kindness. 

79. 

The product of an abstraction is the particular idea of one defi- 
nite quality, such as plum-color. 

The Product and Its Character. — The idea that 
results from a single abstraction is called a pure ab- 
stract. A pure abstract is a particular idea — a mental 
representation of only one definite quality and only a sin- 
gle phase of that quality. A pure abstract is the mind's 
first notion of any quality. A pure abstract may be con- 
sidered as one iota of a general idea. Originally the pure 
abstract is thoroughly particular ; but it soon becomes a 
general idea. 

Illustration. — We have a notion of plum-color. This 
notion is a general idea now — a mental representation of 
color as found in a class of plums. This general idea is 
now a concept, con and capio, a combination-product ; it 
includes all the shades of plum-color in our experience. 
But our first notion of plum-color was not a combination 
of plum-color shades ; it was the definite notion of a defi- 
nite quality mentally represented apart from its concrete 
existence in a plum. This pure abstract became the^^rw 
of successive abstractions — a process called generaliza- 
tion. 

80. 

An abstract is real when taken from an object of sense-per- 
ception. 

Real and Ideal Abstraction.— The abstract^ /<«^^- 
brittleness is not a product of fancy ; it is real and inde- 

7 



I40 JUDGME^NT. 

struct! ble. A man might not again, after his first ab- 
straction of glass-brittleness, see glass and yet might have 
an actual mental possession. This mental possession, this 
notion of glass-brittleness is as real as glass itself and its 
qualities. The idea of glass-brittleness is a real some- 
thing. 

If, however, the abstract idea is one drawn from an ideal 
concept, it is not more real than the idea from which it 
has been drawn. We may, for example, have a definite 
notion of Miranda's innocence ; but we can point to no 
historical, real Miranda. Hence the abstract Miranda' s 
initocence is a mere figment of fancy — not more real than 
Miranda. 

A pure abstract differs from an abstract concept. 

Pare Abstract vs. Abstract Concept. — A pure 
abstract is absolutely particular ; was originally de- 
rived from a single object and refers only to that object. 
Thus the pure abstract mother-kind7iess was derived from a 
particular mother, and, in the child's mind this abvStract 
can refer to only one mother. As the child-mind matures, 
it augments the germ- idea with the kindness of other 
mothers until mother-kindness is a concept. 

A concept is a combination product. The idea is still 
abstract ; but it has become general by a sub- conscious 
synthesis. The product differs from the original one in 
this that it is no longer strictly, absolutely particular. Our 
present notion of mother- ki^idness has a greater content of 
quality-shades — it has become a veritable concept. It is 
still abstract because it is a combination of pure abstract 
ideas and because it is the result of successive abstrac- 
tions ; it is a concept because it is a union of abstracts. 
Abstract concepts are \\\.^n g enteral ideas of qualities, and a 



JUDGMENT. 141 

pure abstract differs from such general ideas in conte7tt of 
quality-shades. All our ideas of qualities as denoted by 
adjectives and abstract nouns were originally pure ab- 
stracts ; but all have probably become abstract concepts. 
Abstraction is thus found to be involved in generaliza- 
tion, to constitute its successive steps, its germ and its 
growths. 

Every abstract concept originated from a pure abstract. 

Destiny of Pure Abstracts, — The abstract notions 
hardness, justice, peace, friendship, purity, etc., have be- 
come, at least to adults, abstract concepts ; but in the 
mental experience of every person these general notions 
were once absolutely particular in content and reference. 
Every one must have made as many original abstractions 
as he now has general notions of qualities. The process 
by which a pure abstract becomes an abstract concept is 
sub-conscious and mysterious. We know that we have 
these ideas, but can not tell the moment when they first 
came to us. No pure abstract remains so unless mental 
experience ends with some particular abstraction. 

83. 

We obtain a pure abstract by a single abstraction. 

Origin of a Pure Abstract. — A plum on the table 
has a particular y^rw. My first notion of this form apart 
from its concrete existence, is a pure abstract. The pro- 
cess by which the idea comes to my mind is abstraction, 
a drawing away of a quality from its object. All subse- 
quent abstractions from other plums are steps of general- 
ization. 



142 JUDGMENT. 

84. 

Sub-conscious or conscious abstraction precedes generalization. 

Relation of Abstraction to Generalisation. — 

Generalization is a synthesis of successive abstracts. 
Generalization and abstraction are so momentary in their 
energies that we can hardly detect their relation. But 
when our notion of any quality is analyzed, it is found to 
be complex — a product of sub -conscious or conscious and 
remembered combinations. This is true of all such ideas 
as justice, beauty, kindness, excellence, hardness, sweet- 
ness, friendship. We must then conclude that abstrac- 
tions are the first steps and the successive steps in gener- 
alization. A dozen different plums may thus occasion a 
dozen distinct abstractions ; but the synthetic uniting of 
each resultant abstract is generalization proper. Sub- 
conscious or conscious abstraction often precedes direct 
comparison and always precedes scientific classification. 

GENERALIZA TION. 

Generalization is a synthesis of abstracts into a complex con- 
cept. 

Nature and Domain, — Generalization follows ab- 
straction, and abstraction furnishes the materials for gen- 
eralization. The separate results of successive abstrac- 
tions gradually become a complex and general concept. 
The process of thus uniting separate and particular shades 
of meaning into one complex and general idea is called 
generalization or conception. Conception is really the 
better name ; but to avoid confusion, the term generaliza- 
tion is here used. The product of a generalization is pro- 
perly called a concept 



JUDGMENT. 143 

Illitstration of Generalization. — Iron-hardness, ice-hard- 
ness, chalk-hardness, wood- hardness, lead-hardness, etc., 
were originally abstracts, particular notions representa- 
tive of single degrees of hardnKvSvS. Generalization 
united, gathered, combined, synthesized, fused these sep- 
arate notions, these abstracts, into a complex and general 
idea. This idea of hardness is now no longer simple ; it 
has become complex ; it is a concept. The process may 
have been conscious, sub-conscious or even unconscious 
mental energy. It must have been a synthesis. All our 
ideas of qualities are thus put together by synthesis. 

86, 

Generalization is the proper basis of comparison and classifi- 
cation. 

Generalization a Basis of Comparison, — Di- 
rect comparison, as we have seen, is often based w^on per- 
ceived and concrete characteristic. The resultant classifi- 
cation, if not faulty, is at least mechanical and superficial. 
If direct comparison is based upon concepts of generaliza- 
tion, the result is likely to be far more satisfactory. This 
must be so because the concepts of generalization, since 
they are the product of synthesis, are matitred bases. 
The classifications resultant from such a direct compari- 
son are based upon intrinsic and essential characteristics. 

Ilhistration.-^WhQn we compare berries upon the basis 
of the perceive! and concrete characteristic color, or form, 
or weight, the resultant selection is likely to disappoint us. 
But when we compare berries upon the basis of a concept 
of generalization, a concept resultant from wide experi- 
ence, a concept representative of many separate selections 
of berries, then the resultant classification is likely to 
please us. The latter is a result realized in classifications 
of inductive science. In ordinary comparison percepts 



I'44 JUDGMENT. 

are sufficiently reliable as bases ; but in scientific com- 
parison and its classification the mature concepts of gen- 
eralization are the only proper bases. 

87. 

The two results of generalization are abstract concepts and 
concrete concepts. 

Abstract and Concrete Concepts. — A concept 
is a general idea. It is called a general idea because it is 
the product of generalization and because it is general 
in its extent over spechneyis, A general idea is always a 
concept, representing either a number of quality- degrees 
or a number of concrete objects. When the general idea 
represents a number of quality-degrees, the idea is called 
an ABSTRACT CONCEPT. But when the general idea can 
be approximately realized in a number of objects of sense- 
perception, the idea is called a concrktk conckpt. Ad- 
jectives and abstract nouns denote abstract concepts ; or- 
dinary nouns denote concrete concepts. The concrete 
concept is wider in content of quality- degrees than the 
abstract concept ; the concrete concept can always be ap- 
proximately realized in sense -objects. The abstract con- 
cept can never be realized in the concrete, has no con- 
crete existence in any particular sense-object. Our con- 
notion of friendship, elasticity, goodness, etc. , are abstract 
cepts ; our notion of horse, rose, plum, quadruped, 
star, animal, plant, etc, are concrete concepts. Bach 
concrete concept is a synthesis of as many distinct gen- 
eralizations as there are vSeparate qualities, such as color, 
form, size. 



JUDGMENT. 145 



88. 



An abstract concept is the general idea of a quality cognized 
apart from its concrete existence in a sense-object. 

Formation of an Abstract Concept. — The ab- 
stract concept color, for example, is a general idea ; it 
represents various shades of color. The quality color is 
to be cognized apart from its concrete existence in a7iy 
sense- object. A synopsis showing the contents of the 
color-idea will make the matter plainer. 

THE COLOR-IDEA. 

1. PURPLE. II. BLUE. III. GREEN. IV. YELLOW. Y. ORANGE. VI. RED. 

J. Lilac. I. Prussian, i. Olive. i. Lemon. i. Amber. i. Scarlet. 

2. Lavender. 2. Indigo. 2. Emerald. 2. Canary. 2. Orange, a. Crimson. 

3. Violet, etc. 3. Sky, etc. 3. Pea, etc. 3. Straw, etc. 3. Cream, etc 3. Pink, etc. 

The synopsis represents many of the original abstracts, 
such as violet, indigo, emerald, straw, cream, and pink. 
The synopsis also represents the yiarrow abstract concepts 
PuRPivE, B1.UE, Grekn, YklIvOW, Orangk, and Red. 
The latter are the results of primary generalizations ; each 
concept, such as Purple, is a synthesis of many shades of 
Purple. Finally the general notions Purpi^e, Blue, etc., 
are synthesized into a wider general idea, a wider abstract 
concept. It is still an abstract concept, but it has greater 
content. 

89. 

We obtain an abstract concept by camparison, analysis and 
synthesis. 

Obtaining an Abstract Concept. — How do we 

obtain such an abstract concept as color or kindness ? By 
comparison, analysis, and synthesis. Synthesis is the 



146 JUDGMKNT. 

decisive thing in generalization. The concrete sense-ob- 
jects, in which we fifst noticed color or experienced kind- 
ness, furnish the occasions for comparison. Likeness or 
unlikeness in color or kindness determined the definite no- 
tion of that particular color or of that particular kindness. 
The quality- degrees successively cognized apart from 
their concrete existence were drawn away from the sense- 
object ; this process is that of ^;^(2/)/5^^. The putting to- 
gether of successive abstracts was the actual synthesis ; it 
was the decisive thing in the formation of our color-idea 
and of our kindness-idea. 

go. 

Lower and higher generalizations result in narrower and wider 
concepts. 

Nature and Products of hower and Higher 
Generalization, — Lower generalization is the concep- 
tion of fewer experienced quality- degrees ; and higher 
generalization is the conception of more such quality- de- 
grees. Lower generalization develops into higher gener- 
alization with our mental maturity. The products are re- 
spectively narrower and wider in content of quality -de- 
grees. The Purple-idea is narrower than the full Color- 
idea. 

91, 

A concrete concept is the combination-idea of all the qualities 
common to a class of objects. 

Character and Content of a Concrete Con- 
cept, — A dozen pears in our basket may differ a little in 
size, shape, color, taste and weight. The thought-pear 
of my mind represents all the qnalities common to these 
pears. The thought-pear need, however, not represent 



JUDGMKNT. 147 

the exact size, shape or color of any individual pear. This 
thought-pear is, therefore, not a particnlar notion. It is 
a combination-product. It is a general idea, a general 
notion, a general represention of all the properties com- 
mon to a class of objects. The same can be said of all 
our concepts of objects. We call such concepts concrete ; 
because, with some trifling modification of qualities, the 
concept can be realized in any particular object of the 
class. Any object of the class can be referred to as a 
kind of concrete type — an actual, real object from which, 
by generalization, this thought-pear, this abstract con- 
cept, this general idea, this combination-notion was de- 
rived. 

We obtain a concrete concept by comparison, analysis and syn- 
thesis. The synthesis is called generalization. 

Derivation and Naming of Concrete Con- 
cepts, — Our basket contains a quart of berries. There 
are perhaps a dozen kinds of berries in our basket, each 
kind different in taste, weight, size, color, and shape. 
Every berry of each class may, by direct comparison, be 
found to differ a little from its neighbor ; and some re- 
semblance may be noticed in berries belonging to a dif- 
ferent class. Bach particular quality that is detected may 
become the basis of direct comparison. In a very short 
time a number of qualities have thus been detected and 
made the bases of comparison. Perhaps the only motive 
for continued direct comparison was to find all the berries 
that had a particularly pleasing taste. This does not al- 
ter our illustration. A clear notion of each quality as first 
detected is a pure abstracf. All the qualities conunon to 
the berries of one class are thus successively or even si- 
multaneously abstracted. These abstractions constitute 

7* 



148 JUDGMENT. 

a successive or a simultaneous analysis, A successive or 
simultaneous synthesis of the abstracts now follows. This 
synthesis is (idXi.<i^ generalization, because the product is a 
general idea, a complex notion, an actual concept. We 
cill this concept a concrete concept to distinguish it from 
the general concept of any quality by itself. The three 
steps of the process by which we obtain a concrete con- 
cept are, then, direct comparison, analysis and synthesis. 
The concrete concept is a general notion, a complex re- 
presentation, a combination product of all the qualities 
common to the objects of a class ; but it does not often 
correspond in exact shade oi quality to any particular ob- 
ject or berry, though it constitutes our standard of subse- 
quent selection of berries or objects. A particular berry 
subsequently compared with this berry may not exactly 
tally with our general idea of the class-berry, but it will 
always be a reliable standard of comparison and classifi- 
cation. Such words as tree, apple, stone, clock, shell and 
the like, are names of concrete concepts and also of the 
concrete objects of the class itself as known through percep- 
tion. The process of getting concrete concepts is the 
same as the process of getting abstract concepts, only 
that the generalization ending in an abstract concept ends 
with a simple quality, while a concrete concept is a com- 
bination of all the qualities common to a class of objects. 
The abstract concept, therefore, differs from the concrete 
concept only in content. 

The qualities represented in a general concept constitute its 
contents. 

Content of General Concepts, — Take, for ex- 
ample, the abstract concept swe^KTnkss. The particular 
degrees of sweetness, marked by corn -sweetness, apple- 



JUDGMENT. 149 

sweetness, beat-sweetness, sugar-sweetness, candy-sweet- 
ness and honey -sweetness, constitute the content of the 
abstract concept sweetness. Such a concept does not at 
first thought reveal all its contents. It is a very wide 
and complex product of successive generalization. 

Abstract concepts, though all known by the one name 
of quality-nouns, differ widely in their content, — as 
widely as the number of particular abstracts that were 
successivel}^ synthesized into a general notion. Some ab- 
stract concepts are like an image in the mind, as is that 
of color ; but most abstract concepts are rather notions, 
ideas, impressions. 

Concrete concepts differ as much in their content as ab- 
stract concepts do. We have already noticed that an ab- 
stract concept is always narrower in content than a con- 
crete concept. The content of such concrete concepts as 
plum, tree, man, dog, star and gold, can be readily com- 
pared, 

94, 

The individual objects represented by a concrete concept con- 
stitute its extent. 

Abstract Concepts Have Only Content. — An 

abstract concept has 910 extent ; it has only content. Its 
content is made up of the particular shades and degrees 
of the quality represented ; but it represents no objects, 
need not suggest any particular object. Hardness, as an 
abstract concept in my mind, need not suggest wood or 
coal. Apart from any object, it is an abstract notion, an 
abstract representation of simple quality. Let us, then, 
remember that an abstract concept has no extent, but on- 
ly content. This is an CvSsential distinction, and is indi- 
cated by the word abstract as opposed to concrete. A 
concept that has extent \^ concrete. All concepts indicate4 



150 JUDGMKNT. 

by concrete nouns have extent and are thus concrete con- 
cepts. 

Extent of a Concrete Concept, — The individuals 
of a concrete concept constitute its extent. Thus the ex- 
tent of the concrete concept quad? uped includes such in- 
dividuals as horse, cow, deer, gazelle, lamb. The classi- 
fications of natural history are mostly based on concrete 
concepts that include a large number of minerals, plants 
or animals. Such concrete concepts are limestone, quartz ; 
flower, tree, shrub ; biped, fish, bird. 

95' 

General concepts are indispensable bases in scientific classifi- 
cation and language formation. 

Science and I^anguage Formation, — Generali- 
zation accounts for the origin and progress of science. 
Without general concepts we could study only the indi- 
vidual objects of sense- experience. Science would be an 
utter impossibility apart from generalization, fbr want of 
an origin or basis of classification. This is also true of 
language and its formation. If language were under the 
necesssity of inventing a particular word for every ab- 
stract idea, and if abstracts could not be synthesized, the 
multiplicity of necessary words would make language as 
clumsy as the Chinese alphabet. 

96. 

Generalization, though often formal, is commonly informal. 

Formal and Informal Generalisation, — In- 
deed, we are hardly conscious of the majority of our gener- 
alizations. From childhood up to our maturer years, we 
become acquainted with the objects round about us. A 
clear notion of such objects comes to us, we hardly knpw 



J UD GM K NT . 151 

how. The direct comparison, analysis and synthesis 
necessary for generalization, are in such cases informal. 
Such sub-conscious generalization is known as informal 
generalization. It is only when we retrace the process 
necessary in the acquirement of a general idea, that we 
really notice the several steps of the acquirement. The 
explanation of these steps has been given and need not be 
repeated. Formal generalization, or conscious synthesis, 
belongs to the field of scientific classification. It is then 
that a voluntary effort is made to combine quality- ideas 
into a more general idea, into a wider concept. Formal 
generalization results in the class- concepts of the sciences. 

CLASSIFICA TION. 
97' 

Classification is the selection of individual objects upon the 
basis of detected resemblance. 

Nature and Domain of Classification. — Class- 
ification is the ultimate function of Judgment. Direct 
comparison, abstraction and generalization are prepara- 
tory functions. Classification is the selection of individ- 
ual objects upon the basis of detected resemblance ; it is 
a sorting of things according to an assumed basis. An 
assumed idea or notion forms the standard of comparison ; 
a detected resemblance becomes the dividing line between 
individuals or things that are like and things that are zc?i- 
like the assumed basis-idea. The classification of com- 
mon knowledge has a narrow basis — that of a perceived 
and concrete quality ; but scientific classification is based 
upon abstraction and generalization. Indeed, all higher 
generalization may be called the application of generali- 
zation. In scientific classification the basis is a general 
concept. When classification is based upon perceived and 



152 JUDGMKNT. 

concrete qualities, it is known as meclianical classifica- 
tion. When classification is based upon the mature con- 
cepts of generalization, it is called scientific classification. 

Mechanical ClassiAcation. — Mechanical classifi- 
cation is based upon such a quality as size or color. Our 
book-cases are often filled according to mechanical class- 
ification. Size, color, or form is frequently made the 
basis of classification. Such classification does not al- 
ways recognize intrinsic quality ; it is a convenient or 
pleasing classification, but seldom an accurate classifica- 
tion. The synopses of school boys are often merely me- 
chanical. A great many text books are arranged on me- 
chanical classification. The arrangement may be con- 
venient, but is not often logical. We at once call such 
books unscientific. 

Scientific ClassiRcation. — Scientific classification 
estimates accurately the intrinsic resemblances and con- 
trasts. Its basis is a summary of common qualities. Its 
arrangements are logical. Such classification is inclu- 
sive, logical and searching. Students should aim to make 
their classifications thoroughly scientific. 

98. 

Classification develops naturally from mechanical to scientific 
classification. 

History of Classification, — Mechanical classifica- 
tion usually precedes scientific classification. The pro- 
gress of scientific classification has been a kind of exper- 
iment. Early botanists, zoologists and mineralogists did 
not succeed in their experimental classification. lyater 
insight of genius and correction has added or subtracted 
from early classifications. Classification in science to-day 
seems to be almost absolutely accurate. Successive gen- 
eralizations are the experience not only of scientists, but 



judgme:nt. 153 

also of every man in particular. As we mature in 3^ears 
and experience, our bases of clavSsification become more 
accurately determinative. The general concept of boy- 
hood classification becomes wider by the accretions of 
years, and in the best manhood such a general concept 
includes a great many items. The content of such a con- 
cept has widened, and determines a correspondingly 
smaller or larger extent of individuals in a class. Indeed, 
classification has become so much of a criterion of true 
scientific method, that the author who lacks classifying 
genius is stamped as inferior. Scientific classification is 
the watch -word of modern science. Without it life is 
quite too brief a span. 

CULTIVATION OF JUDGMENT. 
99, 

Judgment in its four functions can be cultivated by exercise 
on resemblance and contrast as noticed in quality-study. 

Importance of Cultivation, — The acquirement 
of general ideas and the energy of thought ; the forma- 
tion of a convenient and useful language ; and the organ- 
ization of knowledge into logical structures, makes it im- 
portant to cultivate the functions of Judgment. We shall 
not now discuss the items just enumerated, but proceed 
to indicate several natural methods for the cultivation of 
Judgment. 

Methods and Directions. — ^Judgment can be cul- 
tivated in young and old by lessons on qualities of ob- 
jects. Every object that can be known through any 
sense- gateway thus becomes a means for culture. A list 
of qualities may be made ; and these qualities should be 
detected in objects until the mind has an accurate notion 
of each quality. The effect of each quality should also be 



154 JUDGMENT. 

taught. An outline for the culture of judgment and its 
practical application follows : 

LESSONS ON QUALITIES. 

1. Observe objects. 

2. Detect qualities in the objects. 

3. Define the detected qualities. 

4. Apply to practical uses. 

5. State their effects, using sentences. 

6. Find other objects having the same qualities. 

7. Detect new qualities in these new objects. 

The application of the synopsis will be exercise in ab- 
straction, direct comparison, generalization and classifica- 
tion. The lesson on qualities as indicated will require a 
great deal of patience and time ; but the results are grat- 
ifying to teacher and learner. The resemblance and con- 
trast found in studying objects will be a means of culti- 
vating direct comparison. The basis of comparison may 
be especially, weight, color, form, size, taste, length and 
breadth. The aim of direct comparison is to detect re- 
semblance or contrast. This aim is thus gratified and the 
exercise brings culture. 

The detection of every new quality is the occasion for 
abstraction. Every original notion of a particular quali- 
ty is an abstract ; and every combination or synthesis of 
abstracts is generalization. Its product is a narrower or 
wider abstract concept ; or, when the concept includes 
all the qualities common to a class of objects, a narrower 
or wider concrete concept. The three acquirements may 
be indicated by sugar-sweetness, simple sweetness, sugar. 
Sugar-sweetness was at first a pure abstract idea ; sweet- 
ness, to most of us, is now an abstract concept ; and 
sugar is a concrete concept. The latter two are general 
ideas. Finding other objects that have the same quality 



JUDGMENT. 155 

or qualities already detected, is an exercise in direct com- 
parison and classification. 

An additional gain results from putting these products, 
these judgments into sentences. Every sentence will 
thus fix the mental products and be an acquirement of 
language. This is all in the line of natural development 
of language as based upon the functions of judgment. 
The effects of each quality should be noticed, in order to 
make our judgment practical. The practical application 
of judgment in such lessons will help to lay the founda- 
tion of our future inventors, machinists, teachers, lawyers, 
statesmen, theologians and the vast host of those that 
may claim success in the active spheres of life. The fact 
that judgment is the ground-work of reasoning should 
also lead us to make every effort to cultivate this impor- 
tant faculty of comparison and its associated functions. 



E. REASONING. 

lOO. 

Reasoning is that mental faculty by which we reach conclu- 
sions through mediate comparison. 

Nature and Domain. — If reasoning is a mental 
faculty, it must be a distinct and voluntary power capa- 
ble of cultivation. Consciousness and experience declare 
that reasoning possesses the above characteristics. Rea- 
soning is the mind's power of mediate comparison. Direct 
comparison is the characteristic of judgment ; but medi- 
ate comparison differs essentially from direct comparison. 
It belongs to the domain of reasoning to cognize the re- 
lation of 7'esemblance or contrast between two judgments, 
and upon the ground of this cognition of rki^ation to 
infer agreement or disagreement between the two notions 
thus indirectly compared. 

A Distinct Power, — Judgment is involved in rea- 
soning, but reasoning differs from judgment as the simple 
proposition differs from a logical combination of proposi- 
tions. Reasoning is a logical combination of judgments ; 
the combination conforms with certain laws of thought 
which we shall notice by and by. The logical combina- 
nation of judgments is called syllogism. 

A Voluntary Power, — Reasoning is a voluntary 
power. Consciousness affirms this, and we know it be- 
cause reasoning requires attention, or voluntary pressure. 
Many of the inferences of practical life may be involun- 
tary movings of thought drifting with indefinite sugges- 
tion ; but a demonstration in geometry, or an argument 
in debate, or a logical statement of science, is not an in- 
voluntary moving of thought. 



REASONING. 157 

lOI, 

The function of reasoning is mediate comparison. 

Mediate Comparison, — What is the process and 
what is the force of mediate comparison ? Mediate com- 
parison is a comparison of two objects or two notions 
through the medium of a third object or notion ; it is a 
logical combination of three judgments. These three 
judgments are so stated that if the first two judgments 
are related by agreement or disagreement, the third judg- 
ment, or conclusion, 7niist express the agreement or dis- 
agreement of the two objects or notions to be compared. 
The third proposition in reasoning is a necessary inference. 

I02i, 

A syllogism is composed of three judgments. The first and 
second propositions are related premises. The third proposition 
is an implied conclusion. 

COMPOSITION OF THE SYLLOGISM. 

The word syllogism is derived from the Greek, and 
means a reckoning together. The three sentences of a 
syllogism are called judgments, because they are the 
products of direct comparison. The statement of any 
judgment is called a proposition. Every proposition has 
two terms and a copula. The copula and either or both 
terms of the comparison may be expressed in one or more 
words. The terms compared may be percepts, abstracts 
or concepts. In other words, the terms of a proposition 
may be abstract and general ideas as well as items of 
simple perception. The terms are so called from the 
Latin termini, meaning endings. Each term names a 
thought- object. The two thought-objects compared may 
be particular or general. The copula is -^ connective 



158 RKASONING. 

word, usually the neuter verb is. It is often a verb ex- 
pressing a relation, such as dependence or comprehension. 
The reasoning of ordinary language is stated in complete 
or incomplete syllogisms. An incomplete syllogism is 
called an knThymkme. The word enthymeme means in 
the mind, — that is, one premise is not expressed — it is in 
the mind. We shall now state a typical syllogism to 
which we must frequently refer in our study of its na- 
ture. The preceding discussion should be referred to 
the following syllogism : 

All men are mortal ; 
Paul is a man ; 
Hence Paul is mortal. 

A Proposition Analyzed, — The syllogism, it is 
noticed, consists of three propositions. Each proposition 
states a judgment. Each proposition compares two terms. 
The term about which something is affirmed or denied is 
called the subject. In the above syllogism Ail men is 
the subject. The term affirmed or denied of the subject 
is called the prkdicate, as mortal. Neither subject nor 
predicate need be expressed by a single word. Each term 
of the syllogism is used twice in the syllogism. Thus the 
words man^ moi^tal, and Paul are each used twice. The 
term with which the other two are compared, as ma7t, is 
called the middi^k term. The two other terms, as mor- 
tal and Paul, are called extremes. The extreme used 
as the subject of the conclusion, as Paul, is called minor 
TERM. The extreme used as the predicate of the conclu- 
sion, as mortal, is called major TERM. The copula is 
the connective word, as is, through which the agreement 
or disagreement of the terms, in each proposition is indi- 
cated. The copula expresses agreement or disagreement. 

Quality and Quantity of Propositions. — The 
statement of a judgment may be affirmative or nega- 
tive. This distinction is denoted by the word quality ; 



REASONING. 159 

the proposition may be affirmative or negative in quality. 
The words not and no usually indicate negative proposi- 
tions. Paul is a man, is an affirmative proposition. Paul 
is not a poet, is a negative proposition. The terms of a 
proposition may be general or particular. When the sub- 
ject of a proposition is used in its fullest sense, the pro- 
position is said to be a univkRSAI, proposition. All men 
are mortal, is a universal proposition. When the subject 
of a proposition is not used in its fullest sense, the propo- 
sition is a PART1CUI.AR proposition. Some men are ora- 
tors, is a particular proposition. The words all, every, 
and each often indicate universal propositions. The 
words some, few, proper nouns, and many similar words, 
often indicate particular propositions. These distinctions 
give rise to four combinations. Hence logicians speak 
of four kinds of propositions. 

Kinds of Propositions. 

1. Universal Affirmative : All men are mortal. 

2, Particular Affirmative : Some men are orators. 
J. Universal Negative : No man is infallible. 

^. Particular Negative : Some men are not prudent. 

The quality and quantity of propositions determine 
their relation to each other. If some of these propositions 
are true, the others must be tintrue. If some are put as 
premises, they are not proper grounds upon which to base 
a reliable conclusion. These relations of propositions, 
important in the use of the syllogisms, are indicated un- 
der the topic of opposition. 

Opposition of Propositions. — For the sake of 
convenience and brevity, logicians have named the four 
kinds of propositions A, K, I, and O. 

1. All men are mortal : Universal Affirmative : A. 

2. No man is infallible : Universal Negative : K. 

3. Some men are wise : Particular Affirmative : I. 

4. Some men are not wise : Particular Negative : O. 



l6o REASONING. 

The student should become familiar with these names. 
The opposition can be readily remembered by mastering 
the following formula of opposition. 

Formula of Opposition. . 
J^ C O N T R A R I E S J] 

H ^^ ^"^ > 

< ^^ ^^o ^ 

W ..•• '•:,, CO 

J S UB-CONTRARIE S Q 

Tlie contraries, sub -contraries, sub-alterns and contra- 
dictories are so named from the relation of propositions 
to each other and to a possible conclusion. I^ogicians 
notice certain unalterable relations and call these relations 

I.AWS OF OPPOSITION. 

LA WS OF OPPOSITION. 
103. 

1. Two contraries may both be false, and only one can ever be 
true. 

2. Two sub-contraries may both be true, and only one can 
ever be false. 

3. If the universal sub-altern is true, the particular sub-al- 
tern is true ; but even if the particular sub-altern is true, the 
universal sub-altern may be false. 

4. One of two contradictories must be true, and the other 
must be false. 



REASONING. 161 

Illustrations of Opposition. 

J. All men are fallible (A). Then the contrary, E, can never be true, 

a Some men are wis« (I). Some men are not wise (O). Both true. 

2. Some men are wise ([). Some men are not wise (O). Only one can be false. 

3. All men are fallible (A). Some men are fallible (I). I is also true. 
3. No man is infallible (E). Some men Are not infallible(O). O is also true. 

3. Some men are fallible (1). A may or may not be false. 

3. Some men are notwise(O). E may or may not be false. 

4. All men are fallible (A). O must be false. 
4. No man is infallible (E). I must be false. 

It is by all means important for debaters and thinkers 
to understand the effect of two propositions, one a pre- 
mise and the other a conclusion. The same predicate in 
both propositions, as A and E, is needed to show the effect. 



LA WS OF THE SYLLOGISM. 
104, 

1. Every syllogism must have three terms and only three. 

2. Every completed syllogism has three propositions and only 
three. 

3. The middle term must be distributed in at least one premise. 

4. The middle term must never be equivocal. 

5. A term not distributed in either premise must not be dis- 
tributed in the conclusion. 

6. No conclusion follows from two negative premises. 

7. If one premise is negative, the conclusion must be negative. 

8. No conclusion follows from two particular premises. 

g. If one premise is particular, the conclusion must be par- 
ticular. 

These laws of the syllogism are called laws, because 
they are the statements of inviolable principles of thought. 
They grow out of the relation of propositions as already 
indicated. The student should commit and use these 
laws until he is a practical master of the syllogism. It is 
best to explain each law and illustrate each law. 

I. Every syllogism must have three terms and onlj^ 
three. 



l62 RKASONING. 

Illustration. 
All men are mortals ; 
Paul is a man ; 
Paul is a mortal. 

The three terms are All 7nen, Paid and mortal. Paul 
is the minor term ; man is the middle term ; mortal is 
the major term. The minor term and the major term are 
compared through the middle. There can not be less 
than three terms ; for then there could be no mediate 
comparison, no reasoning. There can not be more than 
three terms ; for then there would be no middle term 
and, of course, no mediate comparison. The middle 
term is not often stated in the same words in both prem- 
ises ; because in one premise the term is distributed and in 
the other premise it is undistribtited. The middle term 
can be readily found by selecting the term not used in 
the conclusion. In a typical syllogism the middi^b term 
is the subject of the major premise and is distributed, as 
all men ; it is also the predicate of the minor premise and 
is then undistributed, as man. Each term is used twice 
in every completed syllogism. 

2, Every completed syllogism has three propositions 
and only three. 

Ilhistration. 

All men are mortals ; 
Paul is a man ; 
Paul is a mortal. 

By a completed syllogism is meant the formal state- 
ments necessary for mediate comparison. Reasoning, in 
its logical forms, requires the formal, completed syllo- 
gism. This is composed of three propositions and only 
three. Two propositions would not fully state the medi- 
ate comparison of reasoning. Four propositions would 
require four terms instead of three. This, we have seen, 
would not leave us a middle term with which to compare 



REASONING. 163 

our minor and maj or terms. In ordinary thinking a com- 
pleted syllogism is quite rare. 

3. The middle term must be distributed in at least one 
premise. 

Illustration, 

All men are mortals ; 
Paul is a man ; 
Paul is a mortal. 

A term is distributed when it is used in its fullest 
sense. The subject of the major premise above is dis- 
tributed, because it is used in its fullest sense — all men, 
not some men. Such words as all and every often indi- 
cate whether a term is distributed ; but sometimes we 
must tell from the sense of the statement or from the sense 
of the term used, whether the term is distributed or un- 
distributed. In the minor premise the middle term, a 
man, is not distributed, because it is not used in it fullest 
sense. The articles a and the, the words some, several, 
few and the like, often indicate the quantity of a term. 
The above syllogism is valid ; because a man is included 
in all men ; and it is only another way of saying that 
what is true of the whole is true of all its parts. Deduc- 
tive reasoning and mathematical demonstration are based 
on the same axiom, or principle of thought. This syllo- 
gism may be called analytic, because it proceeds from the 
whole to a part. It ma3^ be called deductive, because it 
proceeds from the more general to the less general — 
from the universal to the particular. The middle term 
in mathematical reasoning is often distributed in both 
premises. 

Illustration. 

(A+B4-C)=DXE; (14-5+50)^(2x28); .•.(A+B+C)=(l+5-}-50). 

4. The middle term must never be equivocal, 

8 



164 REASONING. 

Illustration. 

Nothing is heavier than lead ; 
Feathers are heavier than nothing ; 
Feathers are heavier than lead. 

The illustration is given by Haven, and, though old, 
serves our purpose better than anything else. The word 
equivocal means ambiguous. The word nothing is equivo- 
cal in the above syllogism, because it is used with two 
different meanings. This actually gives us four terms 
instead of three. For this reason the equivocal middle 
has the same effect as four terms : there is no middle 
term, and therefore no mediate comparison — no reasoning. 
5. A term not distributed in either premise must not be 
distributed in the conclusion. 

Illustration. 
All horses are quadrupeds ; 
No camel is a horse ; 
No camel is a quadruped. 

In this illustration the word quadrupeds in the major 
premise is undistributed. It does not mean that horses 
constitute all quadrupeds, but that horses are some quad- 
rupeds. The major term quadruped is not used in the 
sense of all quadrupeds, as if there were no other quad- 
rupeds except horses. In the conclusion the word 
quadruped is used in its fullest sense, meaning the whole 
class of quadrupeds. The violation of a distributed mid- 
dle results in a false conclusion. 

'llhistratio7i. 

New Yorkers are Americans ; 

Philadelphians are Americans ; 

Philadelphians are New Yorkers. 

In this illustration the word Americans is not distrib- 
uted, is not used in its fullest sense. The word does 
not mean all Americans, but some Americans. In the 
minor premise the same is true ; the word signifies some 



REASONING. 165 

Americans. The force of the two premises is as if some 
one said, ' 'A foundation is a part of a house ; and the roof 
is a part of the same house". This would not mean that 
a roof was the foundation, or that the foundation was the 
roof. The idea becomes clear when we think of a large 
square containing two or more smaller squares. The 
smaller squares are parts of the larger square ; but one 
of these squares is not necessarily equal to the other, — 
not adjacent, or identical, or of the same nature. I^ater 
on we shall see that the above violation is a case of two 
particulars, and for that reason, an invalid case. A com- 
mon illustration of an undistributed middle is : 

Blue is a color ; 
Green is a color ; 
Green is blue. 

Of course, we know that this conclusion is false ; but 
if the things compared were unfamiliar things, the syllo- 
gism would readily deceive many a reader. This is evi- 
dently a false conclusion, because it is predicating too 
much. It is saying that for which there was no guaran- 
tee. How did the term quadruped become universal or 
distributed in the conclusion ? Answer : The minor pre- 
mise is a universal negative, and as such, shuts out all 
camels from the class called quadrupeds. This is an er- 
ror usually easy to detect unless the syllogism is involved 
by modality. 

6. No conclusion follows from two negative premises. 
Illustration. 

No man is infallible ; 

No angel is a man. 

( ). 

In the above illustration there is no agreement of major 
and minor terms, and therefore no conclusion. We can 
not tell from the premises whether an angel is fallible or 
infallible, because the premises are not at all related. 



l66 RE^ASONING. 

Nothing can be deduced from premises that have no rela- 
tion. The thought is easy ; to explain is difficult. 

7. If one premise is negative, the conclusion must be 
negative. 

Illustration. 

No man is infallible ; 
Paul is a man ; 
Paul is not infallible. 

The illustration is easily understood. It is the same as 
if in mathematics we should say, ' 'Two things separately 
not equal to a third thing, are not equal to each other." 
There is no agreement between no man and a man. The 
two thoughts are contradictory. 

8. No conclusion follows from two particulars. 

Illustration. 

Some men are rich ; 
Paul is a man ; 

( )• 

Paul may not belong to the some men of the major 
premise, and therefore not be rich. He may belong to 
the some, and therefore be rich. From the premises we 
can not tell, because we do not know whether Paul is a 
part of the whole. The thought is the same as if we 
should make a large square and place in it two smaller 
squares either without or within each other. Paul may 
be within or without the some men. 

Another Illustration. 

Some men are not rich ; 
Paul is a man ; 

( ). 

We can not tell whether Paul is rich or not rich, be- 
cause we do not know whether he belongs to the some 
men. Sub -contraries may be false or true. 



REASONING. 167 

Another Illustration. 

Some metals are not heavy ; 
Some medals are not metals ; 

( )• 

9. If one premise is particular, the conclusion must be 

particular. 

Illustration. 
All men are mortals ; 
Paul is a man ; 
Paul is a mortal. 

Since Paul is one of the all men — a part of the whole — 
he is included in whatever is affirmed of all men. Since 
Paul is a man, one man, he can not be equal \.o all men, 
the whole. Since the major premise asserts agreement 
between the terms all men and mortals, and since the 
term all men and a man do not agree in extent, the con- 
clusion can not be like the major premise, that is, can 
not be universal. If the conclusion were universal, it 
would be the same as saying that a part was equal to the 
whole. 

Another Illustration. 
No men are infallible ; 
Paul is a man ; 
Paul is not infallible. 

The laws of the syllogism rest upon laws of thought, 
and these laws of thought can not be annihilated. They 
are axiomatic ; and, when we try to prove them, the 
proof is far more complex than the simple underlying 
thought. When any one can not comprehend the laws 
of thought, we can not reason with him at all. 

ORIGIN OF THE LA WS OF THE SYLLOGISM. 

105, 

The validity of a lawful syllogism is based upon the unive r- 
sal laws of thought : i. Identity. 2. Contradiction. 3. Excluded 
Middle. 4. Cause and Effect. 



l68 RKASONING. 

X. I/RW of Identity, — The notion indicated by the 
law of identity is that of equivalence. Whatever is, is. 
The parts or qualities composing anything are, in a sum- 
mary equivalent or constitutive of the thing in question. 
A man is himself, not some one else. He is identical 
with no one else. He is himself and that is all. No 
whole thing is equivalent to any of its parts taken alone. 

2, I/aw of Contradiction, — The notion indicated 
by this law is that "nothing can both be and not be" at 
the same time or place. A plum can not be sweet and 
not-sweet at the same time. It must be either sweet or 
not-sweet. A house can not stand in a place, and at the 
same time not stand in that place. A man can not be 
good and not-good at the same moment. Water can not 
be cold and not-cold to the same touch at the same mo- 
ment. When degree or quantity is applied to this distinc- 
tion, as in qualities or in Geometry, great caution is neces- 
sary. 

3, I^aw of Excluded Middle, — The notion indi- 
cated by this law is that "everything must either be ^rnot 
be' ' so and so. The notion is not the same as ' 'nothing can 
both be and not be' ' at the same time, etc. That a door 
can not be both shut and open at the same moment, is an 
illustration of the latter ; that a door must be either in 
one house or the other house, is an illustration of the for- 
mer law. We say that rubber is either elastic or not- 
elastic ; it must be one of the two. A man is either an 
animal or not an animal. He can not "both be and not 
be", nor can he both be and not be a7i animal at the same 
moment. Every thing must be one thing or the other 
when we ask a question to be answered by yes or no. A 
man will either shoot or not shoot, die or not die, eat or 
not eat at the same moment. This law is so self-evident 
that child and man act upon it long before a logical ex- 
planation could be given. It lies at the basis of the va- 



re;asoning. 169 

lidity of a syllogism ; it determines the relation of opposed 
propositions, and makes it possible to think in absolutely 
valid syllogisms. 

4, haw of Cause and Effect, — The notion indi- 
cated by this law is that "nothing finite is uncaused", 
that every eiFect must have a cause. The law underlies 
every syllogism. No premises could be found causative 
antecedents to a consequent conclusion without this uni- 
versal notion. The notion may be intuitive or acquired ; 
but whether or not it is, we need not discuss at this point. 
We do know that all the phenomena in our experience 
are regarded either as cause or effect. This conclusion 
follows from the principle that "everything must either 
be or not be" a cause or an effect. Cause and Effect are 
opposite poles. If a thing is not a cause, it is an effect. 
This is the same as to say that a thing is either a cause or 
a not- cause ; an effect or a not- effect. Upon this law 
are based all the great conclusions drawn from design as 
manifested in creation and the preservation of the world. 
Through this law of thought we look from the finite 
creature to the infinite Creator. The law of cause and 
effect is the implied supposition upon which we base any 
conclusion as soon as we notice the relation of premises. 

MANY KINDS OF SYLLOGISMS. 

Inductive and Deductive Syllogisms. — When 
we proceed from the more general to the less general or 
to the particular, our syllogism is deductive. The de- 
ductive syllogism is the typical form of logical reasoning. 
Illustration. 

All men are mortals ; 
Paul is a man ; 
Paul is a mortal. 

When we proceed from the less general to the more gen- 



lyo REASONING. 

eral, our syllogism is inductive. In the deductive syllo- 
gism we evolve ; but in the inductive syllogism we involve. 
In the former we proceed from the wide known to the 
narrow included part. In the latter we infer from the 
known to the unknown. 

Illustration. 

X, Y, and Z can be melted ; 

X, Y, and Z represent all metals ; 

All metals can be melted. 

Both forms of syllogism are valid. The former is valid, 
because it is based on necessary truths ; the latter is valid 
when the second premise, as in the illustration, is a true 
proposition. The deductive syllogism is demonstrative 
in its proof ; the inductive syllogism is probable, or moral. 
Analytic and Synthetic Syllogisms. — A syllo- 
gism may degin with its conclusion or ^;z^ with its conclu- 
sion. The former is the analytic syllogism ; the latter, 
the synthetic syllogism. These names have been given 
by Hamilton. The analytic syllogism is the more com- 
mon and perhaps the more natural, as will be seen from 
the illustrations : 

Paul is a mortal ; All men are mortals ; 

For he is a man ; Paul is a man ; 

And all men are mortals. Paul is mortal. 

The former is analytic ; the latter, synthetic. The an- 
alytic syllogism is so called, because, after stating the 
conclusion, the riiind a7ialyzes the conclusion into its caus- 
ative premises. The synthetic syllogism is so called, be- 
cause it synthesizes causative premises into a consequent 
conclusion. 

Order of Premises. — It is immaterial in any syllogism 
whether the major or the minor premise is stated first. 
The order of premises has nothing to do with the validity 
of the syllogism. It is, however, important to know 
which is the major premise and which is the minor prem- 



REASONING. 171 

ise. This, as we have seen, can be readily determined 
by observing which premise contains the minor term and 
which contains the major term. 

Completed and Non- Completed Syllogisms, 

Illustrations. 

I. All men are mortals ; II. Paul is a mortal, 

Paul is a man ; Because all men are mortals. 

.-.Paul is a mortal. ( ). 

A syllogism is completed when the three necessary prop- 
ositions are expressed, as in the first illustration. A 
syllogism is non-completed when one premise is not ex- 
pressed. Of course, the premise is necessary in thought 
and can be readily stated by any one. In the second il- 
lustration, the minor premise has been omitted. This 
premise is readily found by examining the conclusion and 
the given premise. The subject of the conclusion, Paul, 
is the minor term. This must be the subject of the miss- 
ing premise. The predicate of the conclusion is mortal, 
a particular term. If the conclusion is particular, the 
missing premise must be particular by law 9. Hence, 
the predicate of the missing premise must be mortal. The 
premise must read : Paul is a man. Such a non-com- 
pleted syllogism is called an e7ithymeme. This word 
means in and mind, in the mind, referring to the fact that 
the unstated premise is in the mind, though not expressed. 
The enthymene is more common in ordinary thinking than 
the completed syllogism. It is indicated by such words 
as because, therefore. 

Categorical and Hypothetical Syllogisms, — 

Illustrations. 

I. All good men are happy ; II. If all good men are happy ; 

Paul is a good man ; And ij Paul is a good man ; 

.-. Paul is a happy man. Then, Paul is a happy man. 

A categorical syllogism affirms or denies directly, un- 
conditionally. The premises are in the indicative mood. 
8* 



172 RKASONING. 

A hypothetical syllogism affirms or denies indirectly, con- 
ditionally. The premises are in the subjunctive mood. 
Pure and Modal Syllogisms, — Illustrations : 

I. Good men are happy ; II. Good men are neaj'ly always 

happy ; 
Paul is a good man ; Paul is a good man ; 

.-. Paul may nearly always 
.-. Paul is a happy man. be a happy man. 

A syllogism is pure when all the copulas are unmodified. 
The first illustration is a pure syllogism. A syllogism is 
modal when some copulas are modified, as in the second 
illustration. Adverbs, adverbial phrases, or adverbial 
clauses may be the modifiers. The modal syllogism 
abounds in all thought, whether it be the novel or the 
book on I/Ogic. The modified subjects and predicates of 
the syllogism, together with the modified copulas, keep 
the eye from noticing the thousand syllogisms in ordinary 
speech and writings. 

figured and UnAgured Syllogisms. — The mid- 
dle term of any syllogism may occupy four different po- 
sitions in the two premises. It may be the subject or 
predicate of the major premise ; and it may be the sub- 
ject or predicate of the minor premise. The position of the 
middle term in a syllogism determines the figure, as it 
has been called, of the syllogism. Since there are four 
possible positions for the middle term, there are four pos- 
sible figures. Aristotle and Hamilton do not recognize 
the fourth figure. Hamilton calls the fourth possible 
figure a "logical caprice". 

Illustrations. 

I. Good men are happy ; II. Happy are good men ; 

Paul is a good man ; Paul is a good m,a.n ; 

.-. Paul is a happy man. .-. Paul is a happy man. 

III. (Jood men are happy ; IV. Happy bxq, good men : 

A good man is Paul ; A good man is Paul ; 

.-. Paul is a happy man. .-.Paul is a happy man. 



REASONING. 173 

The first figure makes the middle term the subject of 
the major premise and the predicate of the minor prem- 
ise. The second figure makes the middle term the pred- 
icate of both major and minor premises. The third 
figure makes the middle term the subject of the major 
and minor premises. The fourth figure makes the middle 
term the predicate of the major, and the subject of the 
minor premise. An unfigured syllogism is one in which 
the two terms of each proposition are equivalent i7i qua?i- 
tity. Such an equivalence may be secured by modifying 
any given term of a proposition. The 7iamc of such a 
syllogism and this kirid of a syllogism in pure logic orig- 
inated with Hamilton. In mathematics this unfigured 
syllogism is quite frequent. 

Illustrations of the Unfigured Syllogisms. 
I, All men are aome mortals ; A := B ; 

Paul and John are mme men ; B = C ; 

.-. Paul and John are Home mortals. .-.A = C. 

In the figured syllogisms the position of the middle 
term will affect the truth or falsity of the conclusion. In 
the unfigured syllogism change of position of the terms 
will not at all affect the conclusion. So much depends 
on the figure of a syllogism, that we should understand 
the force of each figure in all its valid moods. Of course, 
this topic belongs to logic proper, and we can merely no- 
tice the thought involved. By the moods of a figure are 
meant various ways of composing the syllogism of any 
figure. There are 1 1 times 4 or 44 possible moods, but 
only about 19 or 24 valid moods. The aim of the logician 
is to avoid the invalid moods and to know the exact force 
of each valid mood. 



174 REASONING. 

Moods of the Syllogism, — We shall state the 19 
most valid moods as follows : 



FIGURE I. 


FIGURE II. 


FIGURE III. 


FIGURE IT 


AAA 


E A K 


A A I 


A A I 


B A E 


A E E 


I A I 


A E E 


A I I 


E I 


A I I 


I A I 


K I 0. 


A 


E A 


E A 






A 


E I 






E I 





The student can compose the combinations and notice 
their values, in accordance with the effects of opposition 
of propositions. Logicians think each figure with its 
moods has a special character and value. The German 
logician, I^ambert, says, ' 'The first figure is suited to the 
discovery or proof of the properties of a thing ; the sec- 
ond, to the discovery or proof of the distinctions between 
things ; the third, to the discovery or proof of instances 
and exceptions ; the fourth, to the discovery, or exclusion, 
of the diiferent species of a genus." 

Conversion of Syllogisms. — It is often convenient 
to convert a syllogism from one figure into another, or 
from one mood into another, or a hypothetical syllogism 
into a categorical syllogism ; but since we dare not in 
Psychology enter further into the field of lyOgic than 
what is necessary to explain the nature of reasoning, we 
must refer the student to some text book on Logic for 
further development. 

Sorites, or Chain Syllogisms, — The word sorites 
comes from the Greek word soreites, meaning heaped up. 
Sorites may be called a chain syllogism, because they form 
a heap, or chain of syllogisms easily separated into sepa- 
rate syllogisms, each preceding syllogism being 2i pro-syllo- 
gism and each succeeding syllogism an cpi- syllogism. 
Tphere are two historical Sorites, the Aristotelian and the 



REASONING. 175 

Gloceniaii. The former proceeds from less general to 
more general terms ; the latter, from more general to less 
general terms. Both are complex rather than simple syl- 
logisms. The characteristics and the distinctions of these 
Sorites may be seen in the following contrast : 

/. Aristotelian Sorites. 11. Glocenian Sorites. 

"Caius is a man ; "All sentient beings seek bliss; 

All men are finite beings ; All finite beings are sentient ; 

All finite beings are sentient ; All men are finite beings ; 

All sentient beings seek bliss ; Caius is a man : 

.-. Caius seeks bliss." .-. Caius seeks bliss," 

The former may be separated into simple syllogisms as 
follows : 

I. Caius is a man; 2. Caius is a finite being ; 3. Caius is a sentient being ; 

AH men are finite beings; All finite beings are sentient ; All sentient beings seek bliss ; 
.-. Caius is a finite being .-. Caius is a sentient being. .-. Caius seeks bliss. 

The same conclusion is thus reached through three sep- 
arate syllogisms. The conclusion of the preceding syllo- 
gisms became the minor premise of the succeeding syllo- 
gisms. All Sorites can be thus treated. It is seen by 
the above conversion that Sorites are often preferable to a 
succession of separate syllogisms, because less space and 
time are occupied in the solution of a logical question. 

106, 

While reasoning sometimes appears to be un-syllogistic, the 
process generally resolves itself into authoritative syllogisms. 

Value and Application of Syllogisms, — The 

syllogism may be complete or incomplete, analytic or syn- 
thetic, inductive or deductive, pure or modal, categorical 
or hypothetical. AlS has been vShown, each form can be 
converted into a valid syllogism. It is sometimes urged 
that such steps of thought as, ' ' That fire burned me ; 
therefore, this fir ^ will burn me," can be taken without 
using or implying a syllogism ; but this view seems to 



176 RKASONING. 

neglect several important notions of thought, such as uni- 
formity of nature and fair representation. Upon the bas- 
es of u7iiformity of nature and fair representation, we 
must conclude that all reasoning, properly so called, in- 
volves a syllogism composed of a major and a minor pre- 
mise, and a conclusion. The syllogism is not a form but 
the form into which all reasoning resolves itself. 

UNIFORMITY OF NATURE, 

By uniformity of nature is meant the constancy of simi- 
lar effects following a given cause under the same envi- 
ronments. lyCt us apply this to the objection sometimes 
urged that we can not account for the origin of any major 
premises, and that therefore the syllogism is only one 
form of reasoning instead of the only form. Take for ex- 
ample the major premise of the following syllogism : 

All men are mortal ; 

Paul is a man ; 

.'. Paul is a mortal. 

Whence comes this, ' 'All men are mortal' ' ? Surely 
no one man's observation warrants so broad an assertion. 
But now take together the observation and testimony of all 
men who have lived and died. Such evidence all points 
to a uniform result ; and long before so much evidence had 
been acquired the mind of man came to a sort of inevita- 
ble conclusion that, in accordance with the uniformity of 
nature, all men are subject to death — they are mortal. 
But says some one, "This is rather belief than certainty." 
To this man we may reply that practically for him and for 
us the belief is sufficiently certain, especially taking every 
one's own conviction into consideration. Every one acts 
as if he was certain of being a mortal. This being every 
one's experience, we must either grant it to be a mockery 
or a certainty. If it is a mockery which God has put in- 



REASONING. 177 

to US in our creation, it is a wide mockery and one that 
impugns the wisdom and goodness of a loving God. It 
is far more reasonable to grant that our belief in the uni- 
formity of nature is not a mockery, but a certainty, a relia- 
ble origin for general premises, a sufficient warrant for 
general truths and major premises, than to suppose God 
would thus mock his own creatures. Is this uniformity 
of nature a proper help in securing a major premise in the 
following? — ''That fire burned me; therefore this fire 
will burn me." The major premise in this case is, All 
fire burns. Whence this, 'All fire burns' ? Even the 
child acts upon this premise, and we repeat that, for pro- 
tection and use, God has made the mind to know major 
premises from one or several experiences. Of course, suc- 
cessive experiences make the major premise logically more 
certain. It is thus admitted that all major premises have 
their origin in induction and that induction is valid be- 
cause it is based upon uniformity of nature. 

Not every premise, however, will be valid on this ground. 
As we shall see by and by, the items of experience must 
fairly represent all items involved in the major premise. 
This leads us to speak of the second reason for the validi- 
ty of deductive and especially inductive syllogisms. This 
reason is : 

A FAIR REPRESENTATION. 

It is necessary to remember that all major premises, 
except such as are derived from intuition, are formed by 
induction. The induction is a valid process when the 
items of experience, testimony or analogy, are a fair rep- 
resentation of the wider general term to be in the conclu- 
sion. Just how many items the mind demands as a fair 
representation, we can not always tell ; but we do know 
that when there is a sufficiently wide experience, etc., the 



lyS RKASONING. 

mind is justified, acts as if it were justified in stating 
general premises or in deriving general conclusions. 
Kven the child acts out this law of mind. It is the law of 
cause and effect, based upon the uniformity of nature and 
a fair representation of what is to be stated in our conclu- 
sions. We are as certain that all men are mortal as we need 
be ; and we are certain of this, not because we have any 
absolute knowledge of the future as such, but because our 
inference is based on proper representation of nature's 
working. It is thus that the child reasons from that fire 
to this fire ; from that effect to this effect. While, then, 
reasoning sometimes appears to be carried on without syl- 
logisms, we are compelled to admit that it is only appear- 
ance, and that, in reality, all reasoning is carried on by 
syllogisms. We are also compelled to notice that the laws 
of the syllogism are mere outgrowths of thought- laws. 
While the syllogism, in its nineteen valid moods, is not an 
absolute form for the presentation of thought, it is of ines- 
timable value in detecting false steps in our own writings 
and in that of others. 

J07. 

If the premises are true, the conclusion must be true. 

Validity of a Syllogism. — In the hands of a rogue 
or in the hands of an idiot, the syllogism is either like a 
host of demons or like a useless plaything. The premises 
must first be true. That this may be the case, is a work 
for intelligence, honesty and dis-interestedness. When 
there is ignorance, dishonesty or a pet-purpose in the rea- 
soner, we must watch his premises and the opposition of 
his propositions ; we must watch every page of sceptic 
literature for such delusive premises, and we must watch 
our own premises in every page which we think or ex- 
press. When the laws of a syllogism are violated, the 



REASON NG. 179 

conclusion must, of course, be unreliable, often false. 
Let us notice a few illustrations : 

/. Illustration, 

All weak-minded men are dudes ; 

Paul is a weak-minded man ; 

.*. Paul is a dude. 

Every one sees that the conclusion is a falsehood, that 
it is even ludicrous. Where is the error ? Not in the 
logical force of the syllogism, but in the statement of the 
first premise. The middle term is a false standard for 
mediate comparison. The illustration is a simple one ; 
but literature, especially theological novels like "Robert 
Blsmere," and the controversial tracts of atheists or infi- 
dels, are fairly crowded with false premises. This state- 
ment may be verified by noticing infidel argumentation. 
Among those who have proved themselves skillful in re- 
futing false syllogisms we notice Gladstone, Black and 
Garfield. Intelligent and conscientious teachers of men 
should master the laws of the syllogism. Unless we do 
this, there is no telling what untruth we may implant 
even into the minds of those whom we should lead into 
the paths of truth. The validity of a syllogism depends 
also upon the truths stated in the several propositions of 
the syllogism. When both premises are forever undenia- 
ble truths, the conclusion must also be an absolutely un- 
deniable truth. Rational science finds its syllogistic 
bases in the undeniable truths of Intuition. Logic and 
Mathematics therefore lead us to undeniable conclusions. 
Empirical science finds its materials in the contingent 
truths of sense-proof — in facts and notions acquired 
through sense-perception. Botany and Zoology therefore 
lead us to conclusions that depend for their certainty upon 
comprehensive experience, reUable testimony, and com- 
plete analogy. Rational science is based upon absolute 
relations ; empirical science, upon depeyident relations. 



l8o RKASONING. 



io8. 



A relation is a bond of association between things and 
thoughts. 

Relations. — It is necessary first to know what is 
meant by the word relation, and then we shall be able to un- 
derstand what is meant by absolute and dependent relations. 

Illustrations. — Two plums are like or unlike each other : 
this is the relation of resemblance or co7itrast. Corn is 
sweet, sugar is sweeter, and honey is sweetest : this is the 
relation of degree. A tree is here or there, near or dis- 
tant, on a hill or in a valley : this is the relation of position. 
One boy is larger than another, one circle is wider than 
another, one book is more extensive than another : this is 
the relation oi proportion. The watch was made by Mr. 
ly. , the world was created by God : this is the relation of 
dependence. An arc is a part of a circumference, the head 
is a part of a man, a county is a part of a state, an apple 
is divided into fractional parts : this is the very common 
relation of comprehension. All these relations are associa- 
tive ties, or ties of contiguity ; they tell what one thing 
has to do with anott^er. 

J09. 

The principal relations are those of resemblance, contrast, de- 
gree, position, proportion, dependence, and comprehension. 

XJO. 

An absolute relation is always unalterable ; but a dependent 
relation is true only under conditions. 

Origin of Absolute and Dependent Rela- 
tions, — The associative bond between two things or 
thoughts may be an unalterable bond or an alterable bond. 
If the bond can not by any means be broken, then it is 



REASONING. l8l 

called an absoIvUTK rkLATion. If the bond can be bro- 
ken, then it is a dkpKndKNT rki^ation. 

Illustratio7is . — Our relation to God is one of absolute 
dependence ; nothing ever has altered this bond between 
us and God, and nothing ever will. An arc is only a part 
of a circumference ; nothing ever affects this relation be- 
tween the arc and its circumference ; the relation is abso- 
lute. A man can never be anybody but himself ; this is 
the relation of identity ; between any individual and oth- 
er individuals this relation is forever true. 

Honey is sweeter than sugar ; but this might have been 
different ; it is a dependent relation. The house is worth a 
million dollars ; there are many circumstances that might 
alter this fact ; it is a dependent relation. The plum-tree 
stands on the hill ; but it might stand in the valley ; the 
relation between the tree and the hill is a dependent one. 
Relations, therefore, originate from unalterable or altera- 
ble conditions. 

ITT, 

Resemblance and contrast are the only real relations of a 
syllogism. 

^numeration and Elaboration, — The other rela- 
tions before named and illustrated may lurk in the predi- 
cate of a syllogism ; but the force of the syllogism does 
not depend upon them. Whether or not the notions com- 
pared in a syllogism have agreement or disagreement de- 
pends really, upon the relation of reskmbi,anck or upon 
that of contrast. Resemblance or contrast is always 
found in the copula of a syllogism. When the copula is 
affirmative, we have the relation of resemblance in that 
particular proposition or between the two premises and 
the implied conclusion. But when the copula is nega- 
tive, we have the relation of contrast between the prem- 



l82 REASONING. 

ises and between the two terms compared in the conclu- 
sion. All the propositions of a pure syllogism must be 
reduced to subject, copula, and predicate. Various re- 
lations, such as that of dependence, comprehension, etc., 
are usually found in the grammatical predicate, or verb, 
of sentences. In these cases the sentence must be so 
changed as to throw this relation into what is called the 
logical predicate. 

Syllogistic Application of Relations. — The re- 
lations of resemblance and contrast as found in syllogisms 
are determined by necessary truths and by contingent 
truths. If the premises are indisputable truths, then the 
relation of resemblance or of contrast as denoted by an af- 
firmative or negative copula must be absolutely binding 
upon the conclusion. But if the premises are disputable 
truths ; if they are truths that depend for proof upon ex- 
periment, testimony or analogy, then the relation of re- 
semblance or of contrast in the copulas is only probably 
binding upon the conclusion. It is, then, important to 
know whether such relations are absolute or dependent. 
This we shall know when we understand necessary and 
contingent truths. 

CHARACTER OF A NECESSARY TRUTH. 



112. 

A necessary truth is unalterable as to existence, character and 
effects. Illustrations: A= (^4"^)! (2 -|-2)=4; 
effects have causes. 



Illustration J.— To say that A = (^ + ^) is the 

same as to say that the whole is equal to the sum of all 
its parts. If this is not true in every case, then a part 



REASONI NG. 183 

might sometimes be called equal to the whole of which 
it is a part. Such a thing is contradictory; we can not 
even imagine it. This truth is a universal existence, 
never changes in character and always leads to the same 
effects. That the whole is equal to the sum of all its 
parts is a necessary existence. We can not say this in 
any simpler words. This truth is expressed, as we have 
seen, by the law of identity. 

Illustration IL — (2 + 2) mtist be 4 or 5. It can 
not be both 4 or 5. It must be one or the other. If it is 
5, then its effects must be different from what they are 
to all experience. We know the effect of (2 -\- 2). It 
is always 4. This is always unalterably true. Time and 
place can not change it, no agent nor environment changes 
this truth ; it is the same now as it was and always will 
be ; (24-2) will be 4 in heaven as upon earth. This 
truth is expressed by the laws of contradiction and excluded 
middle. 

Illustration III, — Effects have causes. This truth 
is usually stated : Every effect must have a cause. This 
the human mind demands under all circumstances. Time 
and place and agency and environments can not alter 
this truth. The contrary is contradictor}^ The child and 
the man always act upon the belief that every effect has 
a cause. We can not reason ourselves out of this truth. 
The very reasoning process would betray the same no- 
tion. The contrary supposition has always led men to 
the absurd. 

Application, — Such propositions in a syllogism as, 
Paul is a mortal ; because he is 07ie of a whole class. — 
Paul is a poet ; because he can not both be a poet and not 
a poet. — Paul is here ; because he must be either here or 
somewhere else.' — This fire burned me ; because if it did 
not, I can not give any reasonable account oi this burn, — 
all such propositions illustrate the existence and character 



l84 REASONING. 

of necessary truths in syllogisms, and their effect upon 
reasoning in its process as well as in its conclusions. The 
fundamental ideas of intuition are all necessary truths, 
and the sciences based upon the materials of intuition 
reach absolute conclusions. 

CHARACTER OF A CONTINGENT TRUTH. 
113- 

A contingent truth is alterable as to existence, character and ef- 
fect. Illustrations : Wallace wrote "Ben-Hur" ; the clock stands 
on the mantel. 

Illustration I, — Wallace wrote "Ben-Hur." This 
is a truth, but might have been different. If Wallace 
had lived before Christ, or in Africa, or under unfavor- 
able environments, he would hardly have written "Ben- 
Hur. ' ' If there had been no I^ew Wallace, there might 
not have been a "Ben-Hur." "Ben-Hur" might not 
have the same effects which it has, if it were read by un- 
intelligent people or by people of other natures. Indeed, 
there are a thousand and one items that might have al- 
tered or prevented the existence, character and effects of 
"Ben-Hur." This is what we mean by a contingent 
truth. Not that it is not a truth now ; but that it might 
have been different under the influence of different items. 

Illustration II, — The clock stands on the mantel. 
The same explanations could be made of this topic. We 
shall ask the student to try it. The propositions of the 
empirical sciences and of history are examples of contin- 
gent truths. All the truths derived from sense-experi- 
ence and developed by induction are contingent truths. 
In order to prove that such a proposition is a true propo- 
sition, we must take into our syllogisms all the items 
that may have, or might have influenced the truth. From 



REASONING. 185 

what has been said it is evident that there are two kinds 
of truths upon which to construct syllogisms, two conse- 
quent kinds of reasoning. These two kinds of reasoning 
we shall find to be deductive and inductive, characterized 
respectively as demonstrative and probable in their mode 
of development and in the validity of their conclusions. 

DEDUCTIVE REASONING. 

114. 

Deduction is reasoning from general truths to particular truths. 

General Truths and Particular Truths, — A 

truth is a true thought. A gknkrai. Truth is a com- 
prehensive truth, one that covers all the individuals of a 
class, one that affects all items in question, one that has 
a general idea for its subject, etc. A particuIvAr Truth 
is one that is not comprehen.sive, one that affects a single 
individual or several individuals, one that has a particu- 
lar idea for its subject, etc. All men are mortal, is a 
general truth ; some men are poets born, is a particular 
truth. A general truth has for its subject the whole of 
something ; but a particular truth has for its subject [l^ss 
than the whole. Deduction reasons from the whole to its 
parts ; from the more general to the less general ; from 
the comprehending all to the comprehended \?^w^/ from 
the inclusive class to the included individuals. It goes 
upon the assumption that whatever is true of the whole 
must be true of all its parts ; it is analytic rather than 
synthetic ; demonstrative rather than cumulative in its 
evidence. 

115' 

Perception as well as intuition furnish materials for deduction. 

Sources of Materials, — Deductive reasoning de- 



l86 REASON I NG . 

velops the materials furnished to the mind by perception 
and by intuition. Perception furnishes some material for 
deductive reasoning, but intuition is the main source. 
The general terms which we derive through generaliza- 
tion, such as quality nouns and concrete nouns, and upon 
which we construct universal premises, originate from 
perception. Take for example the proposition, "All men 
are mortals." Intuition could not furnish this judgment ; 
it is not a primary idea or truth ; it is a truth derived 
through generalization based upon perception. We have 
already noticed that such a proposition is based upon our 
belief vn nature's uniformity and upon fair representation. 
This induction leads to a probable conclusion ; but the 
conclusion is as valid practically as a necessary truth. 
Not-with-standing the subtle arguments of the Nominal- 
ists, who claim that there are no general notions, no gen- 
eral truths, no general propositions, mankind has always 
acted upon the belief that there are such truths. Grant- 
ing this, we assert that the general truths of sense -proof 
are legitimate sources for deduction. 

jj6. 

Deductive reasoning is a demonstrative analysis. 

Analysis and Demonstration, — If we say that 
all men are mortal and that because Gladstone is a man, 
he must be mortal too, our argument is an anai^ysis of 
all men. Gladstone is the comprehended one of whom 
we can predicate whatever is true of the comprehending 
all. No one will dispute the conclusion provided the 
premise is true. The argument of deduction is also a 
DEMONSTRATION. An argument is called a demonstration 
when one argument will prove the thing as absolutely as 
a dozen arguments would ; it is called demonstrative be- 
cause it points out, convinces by one syllogistic combina- 



REASONING. 187 

tion. Deduction is a demonstration because the syllogism 
is constructed out of necessary truths ; and whenever 
such necessary truths are properly combined, one syllo- 
gism is admittedly as good as ten thousand. We may 
prefer another on the ground of convenience or brevity ; 
but the result is the same. 

Illustration. — A straight line is the shortest distance 
between two points ; a curved line is not a straight line ; 
hence a curved line is not the shortest distance between 
two points. 

The domain of deductive reasoning is rather the abstract and 
general than the concrete and practical. 

Abstract Domain, — The ideas of intuition are ab- 
stract and general. We can not refer the birth of such 
notions as that of space to any particular concrete concept. 
It is true that a particular concrete concept may help us 
as a type of the general ; but as pure notions, those of 
space and other intuitive products are comprehensive, 
general notions. When we reason at all upon these ideas, 
or notions, it is a deductive process. The higher mathe- 
matics, lyOgic, Aesthetics and Ethics, are the field of de- 
ductive reasoning. In their purity, these are abstract 
sciences. We gain but little or no help from perceptive 
sources. The concrete will not enter deeply into our 
calculations. We soon soar way beyond the sphere of 
the concrete, into the higher strata of principles and laws. 
Calculus and other deductive sciences do not require the 
aid of concrete things in their demonstrations, except to 
help the young mind in its first flights. The student of 
the deductive sciences soon abandons the crutch upon 
which he leans in his childhood years. He "unsenses" 
the mind, looks inward with the eye of intuition, and de- 
9 



l88 REASONING. 

velops his sjdlogisms upon materials found in the domain 
of pure mind. 

Ii8. 

The relations of the propositions is a deductive syllogism are 
absolute relations based on necessary truths. 

119. 

ILLUSTRATION. 

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line ; 

A curved line is not a straight line ; 

.'. A curved line is not the shortest distance between two points. 

Analysis, — Extension, direction, position, — these are 
primary qualities. It is true that we seem not to know 
these qualities apart from some sense- experience ; but 
this is onfy seeming. In reality, sense- experience is only 
an occasion for the application of a previous, innate no- 
tion — that of space. Extension, direction, and position 
are outgrowths, necessary truths of intuition. Out of 
these truths we construct the premises of our syllogism. 
But are we certain that the two above premises are unal- 
terable, necessary truths ? If a straight line is not the 
shortest distance between two points, experience and tes- 
timony have always been a lie. We know also that even 
if no man ever tested the proposition by experiment, a 
straight line always has been and always will be, in every 
place and under all environments, the shortest distance 
between two points. An experiment based on the con- 
trary belief would lead us into the absurd. The same is 
true of the second premise and of the conclusion. If so, 
then the relation of contrast between the premises, and 
the resultant relation of contrast between the terms com- 
pared in the conclusion, must be undeniable and absolute 
relations. Nothing that man or circumstances could ef- 



REASONING. 189 

feet, eould ehange this relation ; and as long as there is 
matter in the universe or space is an existence, so long 
nothing can alter the relation of the straight line to the 
curved line. 

1^0. 

One deductive demonstration is as good as ten thousand. 

Validity of One Demonstration, — In the illus- 
tration of the straight and curved lines, we find that the 
conclusion is just as valid after one demonstration as after 
fifty. Kvery mathematician reaches the same conclusion 
as surely through one demonstration as through another. 
In a like manner any mathematical answer is to be re- 
garded. 

We may prove a triangle equal to another by direct 
super-position, or indirectly by showing the absurdity of 
all other suppositions but that of equality. This is not 
saying that we must 2ise both methods to make certain of 
our answer. Either method will do as far as search of a 
valid conclusion is concerned. One method may be more 
convenient or more satisfactory to personal preference than 
the other ; but either is sufficiently valid. 

121. 

A demonstrative conclusion is theoretically irresistible. 

Theoretically Irresistible Conclusions. — A 

conclusion of the deductive syllogism in I^ogic, Aesthetics, 
Ethics, or Mathematics, is theoretically beyond reasona- 
ble dispute. It is sometimes imagined that a conclusion 
in Algebra or Geometry is so absolutely unalterable as to 
make Mathematical reasoning pre-eminently superior to 
probable reasoning. The mathematician feels that if his 
premises are true, the Geometrical syllogism must lead to 



190 REASONING; 

an irresistible answer. The thing istheoretically true ; but 
this admission does not give mathematical reasoning a/ra<:- 
/zV^/ superiority over probable or moral reasoning. To make 
this clear, we need only refer to the application of mathe- 
matics as made in Mechanics, Physics, Astronomy, Men- 
suration, Engineering, etc. While the theoretical conclu- 
sion of Mathematical syllogisms is absolutely accurate, the 
conclusion must be modified by many additions and sub- 
tractions. These allowances we must make for friction. It is 
only when we have through inductive corrections modified 
our mathematical conclusions, that we can make mathe- 
matical deduction a reliable guide in its application. The 
geologist must make all sorts of allowance before his 
mathematical answers will tally with the items of experi- 
ence. The astronomer must learn through a thousand 
centuries how to correct his mathematical calculations of 
a coming eclipse. It is not until by inductive experience 
he has learned to modify his mathematical conclusions, 
that he reaches a reliable statement. In ordinary mensu- 
ration this is true. The engineer, the navigator, the 
surveyor, makes his estimate in the same way. The 
curve in the railroad and the speed in the engine can not 
be accurately estimated without many allowances for fric- 
tion. Cold and heat, storm or calm, ordinary obstruc- 
tions, etc., must all come into the calculation. This 
shows that pratically inductive reasoning is as valid as 
deductive reasoning. 

Deductive reasoning develops the rational sciences and is 
valuable in practical application. 

national Science and Practical I/ife, — It pays 
the student and other men to cultivate deductive reasoning 
for its practical value as well as for its mental discipline. 



REASONING. P9I 

By deductive reasoning the world has developed the 
rational sciences upon the basis of intuitive materials. 
Apart from deductive reasoning, the faculty of intuition 
could not have been anything more than a mere mental 
appendix. The sciences called rational are all based upon 
intuition ; they would never have been developed apart 
from deduction. Deduction has thus given birth to IvOgic, 
Ethics, Mathematics, Aesthetics, etc. All of these have 
a disciplinary value and a practical value. Without lyOgic, 
the science of the true, we should be lame and blind and 
deaf and dumb in Theology, Politics, Sociology and Econ- 
omy. Without Kthics, we should grovel in moral filth 
and degradation. Our institutions would be little less 
than beastly. Without Aesthetics, we should be deprived 
of much that is organized beauty and sublimity in Art. 
Without Mathematics, half the calculations of practical 
life would be like myth and vision. 

INDUCTIVE REASONING. 

Induction is reasoning from particular truths to general truths. 

Distinctions. — Induction is the opposite of deduction. 
In deduction we legitimately affirm of a particular thing 
whatever we affirm of the general thing of which the par- 
ticular thing is a part ; but in induction we affirm that 
whatever is true of a satisfactorily large number of partic- 
ulars is probably also true of the class to which the par- 
ticulars belong. The distinctions between induction and 
deduction may be seen by comparing the following syllo- 
gisms : 



192 REASONING. 

All planets revolve round Venus, Mars and the Earth, re- 

the sun ; volve round the sun ; 

But Venus revolves round Venus, Mars and the Earth, rep- 

the sun ; resent all planets ; 

Hence all planets revolve round 

Hence Venus is a planet. the sun. 

In the former syllogism we passed by deduction from the 
general all planets to the particular planet Venus ; but 
in the latter syllogism we passed by indiiction from a fair- 
ly representative number of planets to all planets. The 
former conclusion must be true if the major premise is 
true ; the latter premise must be true if the minor premise 
is true. In deduction based upon intuitive truths there 
can be no doubtful conclusion ; but in induction there is 
usually room for doubt. 

Experience and consciousness furnish materials for induction. 

Perceptive Materials. — Induction develops mater- 
ials furnished to the mind by sense- experience and con- 
sciousness. Materials thus furnished are contingent items 
of information. A contingent truth is not necessarily 
doubtful in a practical sense ; but we need not regard it 
as a truth until we have proved it to be so by experience, 
testimony and analogy. 

Illustration and Analysis. — A rose-bush planted in May 
grew ; but my rose-bush was also planted in May ; hence 
it will grow. Each proposition of this inductive syllogism 
is a contingent truth. The first premise is true condi- 
tionall}^ ; in this climate, under particular environments, 
planted so and so. The other propositions, like the first, 
are not unalterable facts ; they are probable, contingent 
truths. 

Another Illustration and Analysis. — ly, M and R be- 
lieve that they are free agents ; but ly, M and R represent 



REASONING. 193 

all intelligent men ; hence all intelligent men believe 
themselvevS to be free agents. The propositions are again 
contingent truths, though not in the same sense as in the 
previous illustration. Historically the first premise might 
have been otherwise ; the second premise is not altogther 
true ; and the conclusion must therefore be at least only- 
probable. The former syllogism is based upon experi- 
ence ; the latter, upon consciousness. 

Inductive reasoning is a cumulative synthesis. 

A Cumulative Synthesis. — It may be "morally 
certain" that the sun will rise to-morrow, and that I must 
die some day ; but it is not absolutely certain. The con- 
clusion is not the undeniable effect of a demonstration ; I 
may reasonably doubt the conclusion until I have satisfac- 
tory proofs. To be sure that the conclusion is accurate 
and reliable, we must have sufficient evidence from ex- 
perience, testimony, and analogy. In other words, the 
conclusion is obtained by a cumulative synthesis of sepa- 
rate evidences. We put together the experience and tes- 
timony of all in whom we trust and then conclude accord- 
ingly. This synthesis is cumulative in its evidence ; one 
syllogistic proof would be untrustworthy. An inductive 
conclusion is not acted upon as reliable until proof has ac- 
cumulated from every side. The cumulative character of 
an inductive syllogism may be noticed in the following 
syllogism : The sun rose every morning last year and this 
year ; but last year and this year represent all years ; 
hence the sun will rise every morning through all years. 

This conclusion is "morally," or probabl}^, certain; it 
is based upon a cumulative synthesis of proofs. 



194 REASONING 



126. 



The domain of inductive reasoning is rather the concrete and 
practical than the abstract and general. 

Practical Domain. — Perception gives us purely the 
concrete. Objects and their practical uses have been the 
materials for induction. The child and the man were thus 
able to construct, to synthesize, to proceed from the par- 
ticular to the general. It is thus that generalization be- 
comes the hand- maid of subsequent induction. From the 
least comprehensive in experience we can, by induction, 
pass to the most comprehensive, until we reach such a 
proposition as. All men are mortals ; all animals with 
horns and hoofs are ruminants ; all bodies fall towards a 
gravity- centre ; etc. 

While we may thus reach the general by induction, the 
actual domain of induction ends as soon as we reach the 
general. The general idea or notion is the boundary of 
the inductive domain. That which is strictly abstract, 
that which has not its origin in sense- experience, belongs 
to the domain of deduction. Business, practical morality, 
health and invention, belong to the domain of inductive 
reasoning, — all experimental spheres from Natural Science 
to Government. 

Inductive reasoning is cumulative and reaches a conclusion 
that is morally or probably certain. 

Cumulation and Moral Certainty, — The/ads of 
this proposition have been noticed. We desire only to 
notice the force of a probable conclusion. How valid is 
the conclusion ? We answer by saying the conclusion is 
''pioralfy certain." Mo ?^alfy certain means that the con- 



REASONING. 195 

elusion has so invariably, so customarily been true, that 
practically we may act upon the conclusion as certainly 
true. The word morally is . derived from the Latin mos^ 
custom, and signifies a customary result. From this 
meaning of the word moral, we come to call probable rea- 
soning by the name of moral reasoning. The word moral 
then refers to the cumulative proofs of a conclusion, 
while the YJordi probable refers to \he force of an inductive 
conclusion. In practical life moral reasoning and its 
probable conclusions will compel us to act accordingly. 
This explains why we act upon the belief that we are all 
mortals, that the sun will rise to-morrow, that a certain 
conduct will lead to certain effects, and that life is a prep- 
aration for the future world of reward or punishment. 

Inductive reasoning develops the empirical sciences and is 
practically reliable in life. 

Empirical Science and Practical Life. — It is 

of special importance to the student and to all men, to 
cultivate inductive reasoning. By inductive reasoning 
the world has developed the empirical sciences. These 
are so called because they are based upon experiment, 
sense -experience, perception. Induction has given birth 
to all the natural sciences ; it has given us an organized 
language ; it has given us practical applications of gener- 
alization products ; it is the mother of the useful arts and 
of invention. The physician bases his medical compounds 
on the inductions of the chemist ; he bases his treatment 
of patients on his own experience. The teacher, the preach- 
er, the lawyer, the businessm an, — all men base their con- 
duct to a great extent upon induction. Indeed, it is by 
induction that we learn to do every thing better by prac- 
tice. It is by induction that we have become the harvest- 
9^ 



196 



RKASONING. 



ers of past ages in a thousand fields. We owe it our hom- 
age in the public school and in life as a mission. We 
shall now add a table of distinctions summing up the 
characteristics of inductive and deductive reasoning. In 
both forms we have found : If the premises are true, the 
conclusion must be indisputably true. 

DEDUCTION VS. INDUCTION. 



I. DKDUCTION. 



II. INDUCTION* 



Respects r of Distinction. 



Intuition and Perception. 

Abstract. 

Absolute. 

Necessary truths. 

One demonstration. 

Analytic. 

Absolute premises. 

8. Theoretically irresistible. 

9. Rational sciences. 

ID. Mathematics, Logic, etc. 



1. Sources. 

2. Domain, 

3. Relations. 

4. Bases. 

5. Proofs. 

6. Process. 

7. Composition. 

8. Force. 

9. Products. 
10. Application. 



1. Perception. 

2. Concrete and Practical. 

3. Dependent. 

4. Contingent truths. 

5. Cumulative evidence. 

6. Synthetic. 

7. Probable premises. 

8. Practically irresistible. 

9. Empirical sciences. 

10. Engineering, Astronomy. 



EXPERIMENTAL INDUCTION. 



Experience includes personal observation and experiment ap- 
plied to nature in her ordinary and her extraordinary phenomena. 

Competent and Incompetent Observers, — Ex- 
perience is not always a reliable source of information for 
experimental induction. Several distinct cautions are 
necessary to insure safe conclusions. The basis of ex- 
perimental induction is uniformity of nature, sameness 
of nature's working. Every man intuitively knows that 
nature does not deceive. Our interpretation, however, 
may be erroneous. We may not be physiologically or 
psychologically efficient agents. Our observation of na- 
ture in her ordinary garb may be clouded by weak eyes, 



REASONING. 197 

poor hearing, or any abnormal modification of .sense. We 
may not be in a proper mental mood for accurate obser- 
vation. We may be too imaginative, too superstitious, 
too morose, too morbid, too young, too old, or something 
else that hinders accurate perception. We may not have 
acquired mental culture sufficient to examine nature ac- 
curately and understandingly. Nature and the world 
make a large field for personal observation, and our inter- 
pretations are often wrong. 

Sufficient and Insufficient Data, — It is still 
more true that in experimenting with nature and the 
world in extraordinary relations, our experience may not 
furnish reliable data for induction. This is true in the 
natural sciences, in the acquisition of general ideas, in 
society, politics, government, professions, and common 
life. A second requisite for proper experimental induc- 
tion is that there be fair representation, or a sufficiently 
wide field for observation. It is true that experience 
may furnish abundant material for inductive reasoning ; 
but the uniformity of nature which makes experience re- 
liable is a luiiformity under like circumstances. A partic- 
ular cause will not result in the same effects under unlike 
circumstances. One man gains under certain environ- 
ments, the other loses ; one man is successful in teaching 
or any other mission, the other man is not. A thousand, 
perhaps many thousand, items must be taken into con- 
sideration before we can properly rely upon our personal 
experience. It is necessary, therefore, fairly to enumer- 
ate in our syllogism all possible items or circumstances 
that may modify or completely change our inductive con- 
clusions. Uniformity of nature is not true unless we add 
variety. This variety in every department of induction 
covers a vast amount of experimental correction. It is 
thus with our health, business, science, morals. 



198 REASON TNG. 

130, 

Experimental induction leads to many false conclusions when 
observation and experiment have not been comprehensive. 

Illustrations of False Induction : 

1. The Central African has never seen a white man ; 
The Central African's observation represents all men ; 
.-.' He concludes that all men are hlack men. 

2. Water never turns to ice in Siam ; 

The water of Siam is like water everywhere ; 
.'.Water never turns to ice anywhere. 

3. My philosopher's lamp has never exploded ; 
This lamp is like all philosophers' lamps ; 
.-. No philosopher's lamp will ever explode 

4. This powder-mill has stood for fifty years ; 
All powder-mills are like this powder mill ; 
.-. All powder-mills will stand for fifty years ; 

Topics : Sunrise ; harvest-time ; eclipse ; winter. 

Application. — In the preceding illustrations, obser- 
vation and experiment were not comprehensive, did not 
fairly represent the general terms in the conclusions, did 
not fully enumerate varieties of circumstances. Of course, 
the conclusions are unreliable, untrue. Young persons 
make many scores of such conclusions in their study of 
history, in their estimate of character and society, in their 
acquirement of general notions of science or religion. 
Every one knows how often it was necessary to add items 
of new information, to correct former impression, to modi- 
fy the conclusions of early years, to give up a principle, 
to abandon a tenet of religion. Natural science abounds 
in experimental induction ; but Botany, Physiology, Ge- 
ology, Astronomy and the vast host of them, are not ab- 
solute and unchangeable in their conclusions until suc- 
cessive corrections have included every circumstance, 



REASONING. I99 

every modifying item, every item of observation and ex- 
periment. In Psychology and Natural Philosophy, it is 
of extreme importance to base induction upon a wide 
field of observation and experiment. Full maturity of 
mind, constant vigilance, a normal condition of body and 
mind, fair intelligence and abundant experimenting and 
testing, — these and other cautions are requisites for safe 
experimental induction. 

INDUCTION FROM TESTIMONY. 

Testimony is the evidence which experience may furnish to 
persons who have not the same experience. 

Tradition. — Testimony includes tradition, history 
and legal evidence. Tradition is the spoken or written 
record of a past beyond historical ken. It may refer to 
personages, events, customs and doctrine. By tradition 
we know personages mythological and heroical. Aeneas 
and Hercules are instances. By tradition we locate the 
founding of Rome and the site of ancient Sodom. By tra- 
dition the state and church refer us to customs and doc- 
trines. 

History, — History is an organized, legalized testimony 
of past events. By it we know the rise and fall of ancient 
nations ; their manners, laws, customs and personages. 
From its record we can reconstruct empires now crumbled 
into decay. By it we are assured that there was a Shem, 
a Joseph, a Socrates, a Caesar, a Cromwell. By it we 
are assured that the Pyramid builders lived in Egypt ; 
that America won her freedom. 

Mvidence, — I^egal evidence is testimony offered before 
the tribunals of earthly government. It is used in testing 
asserted guilt or innocence. By it the criminal is con- 



200 RKASONING. 

victed, sentenced, punished. By it the innocent are 
cleared, set free and honored. Though justice is not al- 
ways secured upon the ground of legal evidence, the lat- 
ter is our only practical hope for securing earthly justice. 

Universal Need of Testimony, — Personal com- 
fort and safety, church and state, make testimony a neces- 
sary source of proof. Individuals and associations are 
limited by environments. The chemist, the physician, 
the teacher, the lawyer, the statesman, the jury, the mor- 
alist and the theologian, are bound hand and foot to a 
small circumference, unless testimony removes the limita- 
tions of narrow personal observation. The murderer 
could but seldom be brought to justice if we could not re- 
ly upon testimony. Indeed, without testimony the whole 
fabric of life and government would tumble over our 
heads. If we could never trust the report of history and 
legal evidence, each man would be an isolated point, a 
prey to suspicion and a child in science or art. Social and 
home life, business and pleasure, — all these and other re- 
lations make reliable testimony a necessity. 

Natural and Reasonable Credence, — Testimony 
in its nature, origin and purpose, is crKdibi^K because it 
is natural and reasonable. lyCt us notice the two reasons. 
Children naturally rely on the words of father, mother, 
friend and even of the foe. When there is no recognized 
motive for the contrary, it is natural for most persons to 
testify the truth ; and whether the heart loves this truth 
or not, the fear of detection is usually a guarantee that 
child and man will speak the truth. Of course, this rule 
has many exceptions, and thus arises the question, can 
we at all rely on testimony ? But it is usually reason- 
able to rely on the words of another ; because of usual 
veracity ; because of the mutual dependence of mankind ; 
and because of the ban of universal censure of false testi- 
mony. 



REASONING. 20I 

Intention and Motive Not Always Reliable, 

— But testimony is not always reliable, hitention and mo- 
tive are not the only criteria of truthful evidence. Tradi- 
tion carries but a distorted atom of truth ; history is often 
smothered in myths ; and legal evidence is often violated 
by the demons of hell. Even the court of justice is pol- 
luted by false witness. The innocent is found guilty, and 
the criminal defiantly grins at the law, because he feels 
^haX false testimony often triumphs over truth. 

Whether testimony is credible or incredible depends on the 
matter and on the persons involved. 

Reliable Testimony and Possibility of Its 
Items. — When tradition, or history, or personal report, 
deals with that which is impossible in thought or in nature, 
of course, the testimony is unreliable. A man may not 
wish or intend to tell an untruth ; but imperfect percep- 
tion, delusion or fancy, may make him a dupe. He him- 
self may think his report is true, may himself be deceived. 
This is doubtless the case in many so reported visions, 
angelic visits, mysterious phenomena, abnormal conscious- 
ness, weak memory, table-rapping and faith-cure dupes. 
If a man testified to any occurrence or fact that violated 
the law of identity, contradiction, or cause and effect, we 
should justly doubt his word. If he testified that he saw 
a man use a new and unknown sense, or that a man 
walked on his head, we should justly doubt the report. 
Illustrations may be drawn from such topics as : an earth- 
quake ; a blizzard ; a faith- cure ; ghosts. 



202 KKASONIKG. 



133 



ENUMERATION OF MARKS.— Reliable testimony is char- 
acterized by at least ten marks : 

1. Many witnesses preferred. 6. Diverse ages and epochs. 

2. Competence of witnesses. 7. Diverse educations. 

3. Truthfulness of witnesses. 8. Diverse environments. 

4. Diverse vocations of witnesses. 9. Good character preferable. 

5. Diverse modes of life. 10. Absence of contrary motives. 

II. Concurrence. 

J^laboration of Mnumerated Marks, — The very 
suspicion that testimony is not always reliable makes the 
above enumeration necessary. This follows from the fact 
that there may be conflicting testimony. The marks 
enumerated are not comprehensive, but they will give the 
citizen and the professional man a general idea of the 
value of testimony. To enter into a full discussion of the 
nature of evidence would be beyond the domain of men- 
tal science. We shall draw into our notice only such 
marks as make clear the scope and application of induc- 
tive reasoning. The marks enumerated are true of tradi- 
tion, history and legal evidence ; but are more especially 
true of legal evidence. 

Many Witnesses Preferred. — If only one wit- 
ness told us there had been a storm or an earth- quake in 
Pennsylvania last week, the evidence would not be as reli- 
able as when a number of accounts come to us through 
the daily papers or through telegrams. 

The report of a revolution in South America or of a 
flood at Johnstown, would not have been believed had 
an only witness or but few witnesses reported the occur- 
rences. The revolution in Brazil was the subject of con- 
flicting testimony, and for some time no positive conclu- 
sion could be reached. Illustrations from ordinary life, 
from history, and from court trials, will suggest them- 
selves very readily. The conviction of Guiteau, the as- 



RKASONING. 203 

sassin of Garfield, was more easily secured because of 
many witnesses. 

Competence of Witness. — The same ability or in- 
ability attaches to a witness as we found in case of an 
observer. Physiological or psychological defects may 
make the testimony of men unreliable. A weak-sighted, 
old-sighted, far-sighted, or squinted-eyed person, would 
not be readily believed when reporting strange phenome- 
na. In many cases soundness of the five senses is a posi- 
tive necessity for reliable testimony. A nervous, bilious, 
morose, imaginative witness would be likely to distort or 
exaggerate accounts. An ignorant man or a dupe could 
not give proper testimony. A man might have ever so 
pure intentions, might even thoroughly believe his own 
statements, and yet be unable to furnish reliable testi- 
mony. Illustrations can be found in every- day ac- 
counts. 

Truthfulness of Witness, — Ordinarily we rely 
upon the reports of truthful men rather than upon those 
of liars. Reputation will stamp men with the mark of 
truth or untruth. This reputation will follow a man into 
the teacher's class room, the lawyer's office, the pastor's 
sanctum, and the courts of justice. A reputation for 
truthfulness makes a man a more reliable witness. A 
reputation for untriithfulness makes a man almost incap- 
able of proper evidence. The evidence of a faithful pas- 
tor is always worth more than the evidence of a pick- 
pocket or a gambler, or a jockey. Yet, sometimes, even 
an untruthful man may furnish reliable testimony. When 
there is no motive to deceive, and when there are stronger 
motives to tell the truth, even a liar's testimony is re- 
liable. This is illustrated by counterfeiters, gamblers, 
deceivers of every name, when one of them gives "state's 
evidence." The motive of the particular witness is now 
to escape with his life. Courts of justice recognize the 



204 RKASONING. 

value of such testimony. A dying thief or murderer may 
give proper evidence. 

Diverse Vocations. — In legal evidence or in reports 
of a strange significance, it is of special importance not 
only to have many witnesses, but that they be of diverse 
interests. It would be considered a violation of legal 
testimony to summon as witnesses twelve farmers, or 
twelve shoe-makers, or even twelve very learned men. 
Diverse vocations bring into play diverse opinions, diverse 
strength of judgment and insight. Diverse vocations re- 
move the suspicion and often the possibility of collusion. 
Twelve men of diverse vocations would not be likely to 
join in any conspiracy against a particular person on 
trial. Sometimes a Jury is composed of men of like inter- 
ests, and then justice is defeated. It would be a similar 
breach of proper testimony to have a number of pick- 
pockets, gamblers, thieves and tricksters as witnesses 
against a. man ox for a man. In Christian evidence it is 
considered of highest importance to be able to refer to the 
testimony of men whose interests were altogether diverse. 
A conclusion based on wide testimony of this mark, is 
logically reliable ; and the contrary would be logically 
impossible. The raising of I^azarus has thus become a 
historical certainty ; because the counter- matched evi- 
dence of opposing parties does not deny the miracle. 

Diverse Modes of I/ife, — For the reasons before 
stated, witnesses should be of diverse modes of life Bn- 
vironments have a prejudicing influence upon all men. 
City life is so diverse from country life, that witnesses se- 
lected from the two modes of life would quite likely dis- 
agree if the truth of the question investigated were not 
absolute truth. The counter- matching of such diverse 
influences would furnish a proper prevention for collusion 
or conspiracy. Communities are distinct in modes of life 
and in consequent competence as witnesses. Nationality, 



REASONING. 205 

tribal or family interests, etc., help to promote or to de- 
feat jUvStice in cases where the decision must be made 
upon the mere ground of testimony. Illustrations come 
to us from the four winds of heaven. We might refer to 
the Civil War testimonies. The speeches, books and 
pamphlets upon the subject, differ very materially in their 
line of testimony. 

Diverse Ages and epochs, — The age of individ- 
ual witnesses and the diverse epochs of witnesses is also a 
means for marking proper testimony. Young men are 
more rash and old men more cautious. A court-martial 
of young men would take quite different courses in their 
acceptance or deposition of evidence. In business, in the 
social circle, in religion and government, the fact is recog- 
nized that witnesses should be of diverse ages. Christian 
evidence also demands the evidence of diverse epochs in 
the existence of the Christian church. 

Diverse Educations, — Community, vocation, mode 
of life, historical era, profession, — all these are elements 
of education. The education of a thief differs much from 
the education of an honest man. His testimony is likely 
to be colored by individual distinctions. If a number of 
men of similar education should testify to the same thing, 
it might be suspected that there was collusion. If a 
dozen faith-curists should testify that such and such a 
cure was actually performed, we should still doubt the 
fact ; because the witnesses might have an "ax to grind." 
This does not mean that a large body of men, such as a 
synod, could not be really accepted as proper agents of 
testimony ; but that where a combination of tricksters is 
concerned, we must be cautious in our acceptance of tes- 
timony. 

Diverse Environments. — Environments of home, 
comrade-ship, community, sentiment of the age, social 
circles, business sections or political caucuses, would af- 



206 RKASONING. 

feet testimony. Testimony from one of these sources 
would not be as conclusive as testimony from all these 
sources. Court trials, church discipline, and social gos- 
sip, are valued according to the above characteristics. 
Common ' 'hear-say' ' is in point. The evidence of a high- 
ly educated man differs materially in clearness and items 
from that of a corner- loafer. The evidence of a cultured 
lady and one of excellent parentage is altogether different 
from that of a contrary education. Hence the greater 
certainty of an accurate conclusion when testimony comes 
from these several sources. Diverse educations and di- 
verse environments are so similar in effect and nature 
that one heading would suffice for the illustration of both. 

Good Character Preferable. — Reputation for 
good character is a better test of evidence than reputation 
for evil character. The upright citizen is not as likely to 
fabricate as a common thief or rascal. A burglar's testi- 
mony is not usually worth very much. A pick-pocket or 
a man already convicted of crime can not give proper evi- 
dence. It is, however, not always necessary that the 
witness be of good character. A bad man's testimony 
would be likely to gain our credence if he, on his death 
bed, told us the story of his wicked life. In the presence 
of that higher tribunal there would be every natural in - 
ducement for truthfulness. 

Absence of Contrary Motives. — A liar's testi- 
mony could not be usually accepted as reliable, and yet 
when there can be no motive to tell a lie, but rather a strong 
motive to tell the truth, even a court of justice accepts 
state's evidence. Many a vile criminal has testified the 
truth and brought to the gallows his comrades in crime. 
Such testimony is not an admirable thing in the one who 
gives it ; but is of special value in court trials, because 
the motive of the state's evidence is to save the neck of 
the witness who testifies against his fellows. 



REASONING. 207 

Concurrence. — Above all is it important that evi- 
dence should be concurrent. If a number of men who 
have never seen each other should concur in testifying 
that they had a similar experience, we should hardly 
doubt their testimony. We are not inclined to doubt the 
evidence of men who tell the same straight story about 
an epidemic that is wide- spread, — perhaps from Russia to 
the Indies. It is the special purpose of judicial govern- 
ment to make sure that testimony is concurrent. This 
does not mean that there must be many witnesses, but 
that they must state the same details without collusion, 
without previous conference. This explains why only 
one witness is examined at a time, and why, in an impor- 
ant case, witnesses are not allowed to hear each other. 

Mastery of Marks, — There are several reasons 
why we should understand the marks of reliable testi- 
mony : The citizen will be better able to discharge his 
duty on a jury when he understands these marks. Social 
gossip will fall flat when we test it by proper marks. 
News-paper reports of celebrated trials become intelligible 
to readers who have studied the marks of proper testi- 
mony. Family government and school government be- 
come more simple when the teacher applies the marks of 
testimony. 

Four Degrees of Certainty in a Conclusion, 

— Induction from testimony leads to conclusions of several 
degrees of force. We shall enumerate and illustrate. 

Suspicion, — Hear- say and gossip are forms of testi- 
mony ; but they furnish no proper ground for belief. Tra- 
dition and mythology belong here. 

Probability, — Post-mortem examinations are forms of 
testimony. Their force is often merely probable. It is 
often difficult to tell from a post-mortem examination 
whether death was suicide or murder. Of course, such 



208 REASONING. 

an examination includes more than testimony ; but con- 
sidering the testimony itself, we can not accurately con- 
clude anything. The testimony on such occasions is often 
meagre, confused and uncertain. It is mere probability. 

Practical Certainty. — The evidence of history and 
legal proceedings is far more reliable. We are as cer- 
tain that there was a Cromwell, a Garfield, a Gladstone, 
as we are of our own existence. We are certain of the 
guilt and just punishment of nine tenths of all tried crim- 
inals. Penitentiaries, jails and public opinion, stamp le- 
gal evidence as a reliable form of testimony. Its force 
amounts to practical certainty. 

I/Ogical Certainty, — We can go even further than 
to a practical certainty. The miracles of Christ, and 
many historical events are logical certainties. Testimo- 
ny in these cases has all the marks of reliable testimony. 
And more than this : it would be contradictory to the 
laws of mind to reject testimony so cumulative and con- 
current as that of Christian evidence. A number of the 
miracles claim perfect testimony. If this is established, 
it is impossible to prove Christ's other miracles false. 
Any supposition to the contrary leads the reasoner into 
the absurd and the contradictory. 

INDUCTION FROM ANALOGY, 

134- 

Analogy denotes resemblance of any and every kind. 

Nature of Analogy, — The formation of the word 
analogy denotes correspondence in proportion to. When 
two things resemble each other in one or more respects, 
we say there is an analogy between them. The resem- 
blance may be that of qualities, cause, effect, relation, 
progress, environment, or otherwise. The word opposed 
to analogy, is contrast. 



REASONING. 209 

Analysis of Illustrations. — A and B resemble each 
other in horns, shape, hoofs, etc ; but A is a ruminant ; 
therefore B is probably also a ruminant. This may or 
may not follow. Newton noticed the resemblance of the 
diamond and of water to carbon. In the three cases, he 
found a high refraction compared with density ; but car- 
bon he knew to be combustible ; therefore he concluded 
that the diamond and water either were themselves also 
combustible or contained combustible elements. Subse- 
quent experimeyit proved that both conclusions were 
correct. In a similar way, the falling apple compared 
first with the moon and then with other heavenly bodies, 
revealed resemblances that gradually lead to the state- 
ment of the law of gravitation, — one of the grandest prod- 
ucts of induction. Analogy is thus a sort of school- 
teacher in physical science. 

Induction from analogy is not as far-reaching as induction 
from experience. Analogy infers from particulars to particulars ; 
but experience, from particulars to generals. 

/. Illust7'ation, 
A and B, horned and hoofed animals, are ruminants ; 
C and D are horned and hoofed animals ; 
.'. C a7id D 2^X0. probably also ruminants. 

II. Illusti'ation. 

A and B, horned and hoofed animals, are ruminants ; 

A and B fairly represent all ruminants ; 

.'. ^//horned and hoofed animals are ruminants. 

Narrow Domain and Uncertain Conclusion. 

— The illustrations will vShow the difference in vSyllogisms 
based on analogy and on experience. The second prem- 
ise of the former syllogism differs wholly from the second 



2IO re: ASON I n g . 

premise of the latter syllogism. The conclusion of the an- 
alogical syllogism is not 2iS> probable as that of the experi- 
mental syllogism, and the former conclusion is not as far- 
reaching as the latter conclusion. By analogical induc- 
tion the physician diagnoses a case ; and, by experimental 
induction, he knows what remedy to apply. The strict 
sense of the word induction does not allow us to speak of 
analogical induction. Induction strictly proceeds from 
particulars to generals ; analogy usually proceeds from 
particulars to particulars. Analogy is a mere inference. 

When two things are alike in a number of respects, we af- 
firm by analogy that they are alike also in other respects. 

Analogy in language and Physiognomy, — 

We have here a step of inference based on resemblance or 
contrast. Resemblance and contrast are found everywhere 
in nature and experience. lyanguage becomes a conveni- 
ent organization because of resemblance and contrast in 
ideas and thoughts. Linguistic energy has created a my- 
riad of rhetorical figures based upon analogy. In every 
case an unobserved resemblance is predicated on the 
ground of observed resemblances. Adjectives originally 
applied to only one object are thus transferred to many 
other objects. We speak of /zar<^ iron, hard hearts, hard 
lessons, hard winter, hard work. In this transfer of ad- 
jectives we notice resemblances between iron hearts, les- 
sons, winter and work. On the ground of this resem- 
blance we predicate the quality of hardness of them all. 
The shade of meaning may not be the same ; but the 
quality is the same. Our first estimates of the character of 
strangers is largely based upon analogy. We associate 
known features with a known character. We infer too 
often that the stranger whose features resemble those of 



REASONING. 211 

one we know also possesses a similar character. How 
often we are deceived, every one knows by experience. 

137' 

Induction from analogy reaches a probable conclusion meas- 
ured in certainty by the extent of resemblance or contrast. 

Certainty Estimated by Extent of Resem- 
blance, — In the following illustrations the conclusion is 
probable rather than certain. The first conclusion is more 
probable than the second. Saturn revolves round the 
sun ; but the moon revolves only round the earth. Sa- 
turn has a direct relation to the sun as the source of light ; 
but the moon's light is indirect. The conclusion in the 
last syllogism is now no longer probable ; it is certain. 
This certainty follows extent of resemblance as determined 
by experiment. Any number of syllogisms based on anal- 
ogy, may be constructed on such topics as lightning, 
water, the telephone, Kdgar Allen Poe, the Resurrec- 
tion. 

Illustrations: i. Saturn resembles the earth in shape, 
motion, opacity and relation ; but the earth is inhabited ; 
hence Saturn is probably inhabited. 2. The moon re- 
sembles the earth in shape, motion, opacity and relation ; 
but the earth is inhabited ; hence the moon is probably 
inhabited. 3. The diamond resembles carbon in refrac- 
tion and density ; but carbon is combustible ; hence the 
diamond is probably also combustible. 

X38. 

While induction from analogy often leads to false conclusions, 
it is valuable for defense and for experiment. 

Counter- Analogy, — Analogy is certainly often mis- 
leading. The physician's diagnosis, the youthful esti- 
mate of character, and our scientific guesses, furnish illus- 
10 



212 RE^ASONING. 

trations of misleading analogies. This is particularly 
true when there is counter-probability. Many resemblan- 
ces are often less weighty than one or two differences. In 
the case of the moon, the fact that the moon has no at- 
mosphere and no water, counter-balances the conclusion 
that the moon is inhabited. lyife does not depend so 
much upon shape, motion, opacity and relation to the 
sun, as it depends upon air and water. Often times, the 
more resemblances can be traced in other respects, the 
more probable is a conclusion with reference to a particular 
respect. A man may, for example, resemble an other 
man in so many respects that it is probable he is also 
truthful or untruthful. When there is counter-probabili- 
ty, we must estimate the proportion of resemblance of one 
kind to that of another kind. If the proportion of resem- 
blance is as five is to one, then the conclusion is likely to 
be probable as five is to one. There are many exceptions. 

Analogy in Defense and Experimentation, 
— Butler's Analogy, Drummond's Naturai^ lyAws in the 
Spirituai. W0RI.D, and Bishop Foster's Beyond the 
Grave, have proved the value of analogy in argumenta- 
tion. While analogy can not directly prove anything, it 
is a potent force in rebutting. We may not be able, by 
analogy to prove the Resurrection ; but when the infidel 
sets up his contrary arguments, we can readily show the 
absurdity of his conclusions. Butler and Drummond and 
Foster have shown the high probability of immortality, 
future reward and punishment, and other vital doctrines 
of Revealed Religion. Indeed, the probability is a prac- 
tical certainty, and it is harder to prove their conclusions 
false than to disprove our own existence. Reasoning by 
analogy leads to conlusions that demand our life's devo- 
tion. 

Analogy is an aid to experiment. Many an experi- 
ment in science would never have been made, had analogy 



R K AS O NIN G . 213 

not led to it. Franklin's discovery that lightning is iden- 
tical with electricity, Bell's telephone, Edison's host of 
inventions, and the law of gravitation had their birth in 
analogy. Analogy thus leads to experiment, hypothesis, 
theory and practical doctrines. The student will do well 
if he studies the masters in this kind of reasoning — But- 
ler, Drummond and Foster. 

INDUCTION FROM HYPOTHESIS. 
139' 

Hypothesis is a supposition, a provisional account, a conjec- 
tui^ed cause or law, a guess, a suspicion of truth. 

The Nature of Hypothesis, — The formation of 
the word denotes its meaning. Hypothesis is from the 
Greek, and means a statement of an opinion with refer- 
ence to some topic. Inductive thinking does not always 
succeed in reaching an explanation of phenomena by 
merely putting together this and that item of perception. 
Some suggestion of sense may lead the mind to frame a 
provisional account of phenomena. We may afterwards 
add to this supposition or subtract from it until it fully 
accounts for all important facts. In this tentative test 
of a conjecture we aim to notice for how many facts the 
guess will account. If it is a mere suspicion of truth, in- 
ductive reasoning will either result in a vkRification or 
a REJECTION of the hypothesis. A hypothesis is a guess, 
a supposition ; but a hypothesis that fully and systemat- 
ically accounts for phenomena is called a theory. A 
theory is, therefore, a verified hypothesis. When we 
speak of a rejected hypothesis or an abandoned theory, 
we depart from the scientific sense of the word theory. 
The hypothesis may have seemed to be theory, but never 
actually was such. I^a Place calls a hypothesis "a great 
guess." Plato calls it "a sacred suspicion of truth." 



214 REASONING. 

Illustration of Historical Hypotheses. — Kepler's conjec- 
ture of the earth's orbit was originally a gratuitous suppo- 
sition. He guessed nineteen or twenty times until his hy- 
pothesis was correct. Franklin's suspicion that lightning 
was identical with electricity was at first a provisional ac- 
count, a mere guess. Newton's "great guess" that the 
heavenly bodies were subject to a law of gravitation was 
at first a mere conjecture based upon the suggestion of a 
falling apple. 

140. 

Hypotheses originate from a suggestion. The steps are : i. A 
perception. 2. Suggestion. 3. Thought and Imagination. 

Origin and Development of a Hypothesis, — 

A simple thing like a falling apple or an empty pistol 
may become a suggestion. It would be interesting to 
trace adopted theories to their original hypothesis and its 
suggestion. We should likely fail in an attempt to find 
such original sense- suggestions, even in the hypotheses of 
practical, every- day life. Could we go back into the 
memory, or back still further, into the original conscious- 
ness of Kepler, Copernicus, Newton, Goethe, Harvey, 
Franklin, and others, we would perhaps find that mere 
trifles had suggested hypotheses of great importance. But 
we should remember that usually the observing, thought- 
ful man is pre-eminently the one to catch such sugges- 
tions. A lively fancy and a logical mind are usually the 
requisites for the getting of hypotheses. 

Every hypothesis tested by facts is either verified or rejected. 

Veri£cation or Rejection, — In practical life and in 
scientific induction, hypotheses are numerous. We notice 



REASONING. 215 

phenomena, and intuitively ask for a cause or a law. In 
the absence of a conclusion, we seize upon any clew that 
may suggest an explanation. Bach one of us has thus 
formed hypotheses, tested them by subsequent informa- 
tion, brought them under the measure of facts, and in- 
ferred the truth or the contrary. The juror, the detective, 
the physicist, makes these guesses. Crude and unshape- 
ly at first, a gradual testing modifies them into a system, 
or proves them untrue. A hypothesis which fully ac- 
counts for observed phenomena is thus regarded as a 
THEORY. The hypothesis need not account at once for 
every possible item or fact ; but when no important class 
of facts is excluded in the test, the hypothesis becomes a 
practical truth. Hypothesis, the statement of a law or 
cause, can never become an absolute truth, because a law 
or a cause lies back of perception, must be inferred rather 
than perceived. A theory is, then, never absolute truth. 
It may become a logical and practical truth. When a hy- 
pothesis does not account for phenomena, we reject it. 
Afterwards we may still speak of the guess as a rejected 
theory. 

Enumeration of Veri£ed and Rejected Hy- 
potheses, — The law of gravitation ; "daily rotation" of 
the earth ; an elliptical orbit ; undulation of light ; circu- 
lation of blood ; nebular hypothesis ; atmospheric origin 
of meteors ; atmospheric account of Aurora Borealis ; 
the microbe theory of influenza ; metamorphosed leaves, 
— all these are now regarded as practically verified hy- 
potheses. The following may be regarded as rejected hy- 
potheses : The phlogiston theory in Chemistry ; the cor- 
puscle theory of light ; the fluidity theory of the earth's 
interior ; the reflection theory of Aurora Borealis. 

Remarks. — Some years ago the "Microcosm" made 
attempts to prove many of the most reliable theories of 
physics false or inadequate. For some time it looked as 



2l6 REASONING. 

if Gaiiot and Kepler and Copernicus and Newton had 
all failed to guess the truth, — as if Plato's "sacred suspi- 
cion of the truth" had been a satanic imposture. But 
John R. Hall's Microcosm could not substitute any hy- 
potheses, never tried to do so, and no one else has tried 
it ; so that we still accept the theories of our text books 
with a great deal of confidence. Of course, we -may have 
to give up many hypotheses ; but it is difficult to see how 
"gravitation", "rotation", etc., could be proved false. 

Hypotheses, whether verified or rejected, are valuable in ex- 
periment and in the discoveries of practical life. 

Rejected Hypotheses Have a Practical Value, 

— Kepler had failed nineteen times ; but every failure 
brought him nearer to the truth. The "corpuscle" theo- 
ry of light has been abandoned ; but it suggested the ac- 
cepted theory of ' 'undulation' ' , by its very contrast. The 
"reflection" theory of Aurora Borealis has been rejected ; 
but it lead to the acceptance of the "atmospheric" theo- 
ry. The detective may abandon a score of hypotheses ; 
but every one narrows his circle of search and brings him 
nearer the truth. Pinkerton's Detective Agency is found- 
ed upon the fact that hypotheses may lead to the discov- 
ery of criminals and causes. The missing purse, the 
mysterious absence of a banker, the murder, the suicide, 
are all provisionally accounted for by hypothesis. Time 
and experiment and investigation recover the purse in ac- 
cordance with the hypothesis, track the banker, overtake 
the murderer, account for the suicide. Natural science 
and justice often begin their searches with a crude hy- 
pothesis. Indeed, we can hardly form an idea of the host 
of hypotheses that enter our experience and our notice. 
The public press records these hypotheses by myriads. 



REASONING. 217 

I43» 

A theory is a systematic statement of a tested hypothesis. 
When a theory is logically certain, it is called a verified hypothe- 
sis. 

Theory vs. Hypothesis, — It will be noticed that 
the words hypothesis and theory are used interchangea- 
bly. The guess in its birth, may be called hypothesis ; 
but in its tested and developed statement it is called a 
theory. The word theor}^ is of Greek origin, and signi- 
fies a view, a survey, a looking into. The theory is older 
and later than hypotheses. Many hypotheses may pre- 
cede and suggest but a single theory. H3^po thesis is a 
rude, unshapely guess ; but theory is a systematic, pruned 
statement of a cause or a law. Previoiis to test, the sup- 
position is a hypothesis ; after the test, the hypothesis is 
called a theory. Hypothesis may originate in one mind 
and be developed by another or by many. A guess 
is never a theory before it has been tested by facts, A 
hypothesis, after the test, is called a theory whether the 
test verified the hypothesis or rejected it. Hypothesis 
may come to us by accident ; but a theory is the product 
of reflection. While, then, the terms may be used inter- 
changeably, there are practical and logical distinctions. 

CULTIVATION OF REASONING. 

144* 

Reasoning should be cultivated by exercise in deduction and in- 
duction, including experience, testimony, analogy and h3rpothesis. 

It is not our aim to enter into lengthy discussions on 
culture. This is rather the sphere of Methods than of 
Psychology ; but the student needs to be reminded of th« 
fact that every faculty can be cultivated and ought to 
be cultivated. By what methods to cultivate each facul- 



2l8 REASONING. 

ty, depends on the nature and functions of the faculty. 
Mediate comparison is the function of reasoning, and its 
nature is two- fold, inductive and deductive. In our 
youthful years more stress vShould be laid on inductive rea- 
soning. A constant use of experience, testimony, analogy 
and hypothesis, will develop our capacity for inductive 
reasoning. Experience includes observation and experi- 
ment. Testimony includes tradition, history and legal 
evidence. Analogy includes all sorts of resemblance. 
Hypothesis denotes our guesses and suppositions. Prac- 
tice in the application of these four sources of induction 
will widen our field, quicken our activity, and enlist our 
sympathies. Natural science in all its departments is a 
valuable field for inductive culture. The estimate of evi- 
dence in courts and social circles will make us cautious and 
accurate thinkers. The observation of analogies in na- 
ture and life, will lead us to many valuable conclusions. 
The forming of hypotheses and subsequent testing will 
make us scientific and inquisitive thinkers. We should 
always try to estimate the exact force of such probable 
conclusions, lest induction be rather a stumbling block 
than a help. The environments of home-life and school- 
life are themselves valuable aids in inductive thought. 

Deductive reasoning receives culture from deductive 
thinking. We must start out with general notions and 
infer particulars. Such reasoning should be based on 
primary truths. The branches of study based upon such 
truths are Mathematics, I^ogic, Aesthetics, Ethics, and 
others. Deductive thinking comes later in life than in- 
ductive thinking. Dr. Brooks, in his "Methods of Teach- 
ing' ' gives a valuable outline for the culture of the Under- 
standing. Reference to the outline will give the student 
and teacher a proper idea of the culture of reasoning. 
The course indicated involves the following : 



REASONING. 219 

1. Thought-Studies, such as arithmetic and grammar. 

2. Special problems and special sentences. 

3. Composition. 

4. Higher mathematics, physics and metaphysics. 

5. Writings of great thinkers. 

6. Orig^inal thinking. 

Remarks. — Mental arithmetic and grammar are es- 
pecially valuable in the culture of reasoning. Both branch- 
es demand accurate thinking, logical analysis, and re- 
flection. 

There is some danger that, in grammar and arithmetic, 
the student may become dependent upon ru/e and answer. 
To avoid this, special problems and special sentences 
should be given to pupils. These tasks will put the pu- 
pil on his mettle, and make him independent of.r?^/^ or 
ansiver. 

Composing upon subjects of interest is a good means 
for enlisting reflection; because, without thinking, the 
composition will be a mere jumble. 

Higher mathematics, etc. , constantly throw older stu- 
dents into deductive and inductive syllogisms. 

The writings of great thinkers become an ijnpulse and 
a discipline for a faithful reader. 

Above all, original, independent thinking is the proper 
exercise for our thought- nature. 



10* 



F. INTUITION. 

145- 

Intuition is that mental faculty by which we conceive piima- 
ry ideas and truths. 

Two Sources of Ideas, — Most of our ideas seem 
to come directly through the perception. We may re- 
member, modify, compare and elaborate the products of 
perception into all sorts of thoughts ; but these subsequent 
operations are performed upon products given by percep- 
tion. Perception is one source of ideas. We have, how- 
ever, other ideas not traceable to perception as the source. 
Perception, it is true, is the occasion, the necessary condi- 
tion, for the production of such ideas as those of space, 
time, identity, cause, the beautiful, the good, etc. ; but 
perception is clearly unable directly to furnish these ideas. 
In other words, perception is not \h^ producing cause of 
such ideas. The distinction is that of occasion and cause. 
It may be well for us to notice this distinction. 

X46. 

An occasion is a necessary condition for the activity of a cause. 

Occasion vs. Cause, — i. The kernel of wheat may 
be stored away in water- proof chests for centuries. It 
will not sprout until it is brought in contact with mois- 
ture. The sprouting is an effect. The moisture is an oc- 
casion, a necessary condition for the activity of a sprouting 
cause. This cause is the germ-life of the kernel. The 
cause may not have been active for centuries ; but we can 
not say there was no existing cause, any more than we 
can saj^ an un-used arm is non-existent. Use can not pro- 



INTUITION. 221 

duce a cause, and absaicc of use need not annihilate a 
cause. Whenever the necessary occasion presents itself, 
the cause becomes active, as in the case of the sprouting 
kernel of wheat. It is also true that a cause would never 
become active if there were no proper occasion ; but it is 
equally true that the cause could and can at any time be- 
come active under the necessary condition. This is also 
seen in the kernel of wheat. We see, then, that an occa- 
sion is necessary' not as a producing agent, but as a condi- 
tion. The occasion of moisture could never make a stone 
sprout, because a life-gcnn is wanting in the stone. In 
other words, the stone is not a cause of sprouting. 

2. A powder-mill may explode. What is the occasio7i 
and what is the cause ? The accidental footstep is the oc- 
casio7i ; but the explosive powder is the cause of the explo- 
sion. The occasion comes in contact with the cause, and 
the cause produces the explosion. There is no activity in 
an occasion as such ; it is capable of nothing but passive 
contact. The cau.se is the active agent. We should, how- 
ever, remember that what is an occasion in one relation 
ma}^ constitute a caicse in another relation ; and that what 
is a cause in one association may become a mere occasio7i 
in another relation. The terms occasion and cause are, 
therefore, relative terms used to indicate respectively a 
necessary condition and an active agency, 

3. Mr. I^. delivers an Institute speech. Here are three 
items of association, — Mr. I^., the speech, and the Insti- 
tute. In this association Mr. L. is the active agency, the 
cause ; the speech is a product, an effect ; and the Insti- 
tute is the necessary condition, the occasion. But again : 
The Institute recommended Mr. ly. Here we have a new 
relation for the items. Institute becomes the active agen- 
cy, the cause ; and the recommendation of Mr. L. is a 
product, an effect. What is the occasion ? We may know 
it or we may not know it. It may be this or that. Mr. 



222 INTUITION. 

F. has died, and his position is vacant. The death and 
the consequent vacancy are the occasion in the present 
case. Institute is here the cause ; above, it was the oc- 
casion. Let us apply these distinctions to perception and 
intuition. 

Relation of Perception to Intuttion,— Ideas not 
obtained through perception, but which are fundamental 
in all thinking, are called primary. Perception is the 
necessary condition for the activity of intuition. Percep- 
tion is the occasion, and intuition is the cause. It is true 
that intuition would not become an active agency apart 
from contact with the external world. Perception is this 
contact. But it is equally true that, whenever the occa- 
sion, the sense- contact, is present, the intuition can and 
does immediately become active, productive. Perception 
is thus not the direct agent of primary products, though 
it is such in the case of all notions derived directly from 
sense-cognitions. 

EXISTENCE OF INTUITIVE IDEAS. 

147' 

Consciousness and experience affirm that there a re intuitive 
ideas in our mind and that they are distinct in their origin. 

Existence of Primary Ideas. — The child may 
be only sub- conscious of the existence of such ideas as 
those of space, time, identity, cause, the beautiful, and 
the right ; but when we question consciousness under 
attentive effort, we recognize the existence of such notions. 
We have not yet accounted for their origin at this stage 
of introspection ; but we act upon these fundamental 
ideas in nearly every environment of life. Let us notice 
these ideas separately. We know what space is ; we 
have a notion, an idea of it as an existing reality ; and we 



I NTu I 'ri ON . 223 

conform out actions to this notion. Even the child knows 
a space and has a distinct notion of a space, such as 
that bounded by a room. But this "<2 space'' is a per- 
cept, a measured portion of something. We could not 
have made a ineasiire of something which we never 
knew. We must, then, have had a previous notion of 
space in its unmeasured existence. Our notion of such 
unmeasured space preceded the percept a space and pre- 
supposes a preceding, a primary notion of unmeasured 
space. This notion is of sub-conscious origin, an imme- 
diate product of the mind, and we can not tell when it 
came to us. It is an intuitive idea. In a like manner 
we can show that the percept ' 'a time' ' presupposes the 
notion of unmeas2cred time ; that this latter notion is a 
primary idea, an intuitive notion, an immediate concep- 
tion of the mind in contact with a sense- occasion. We 
know also that this idea of time was sub-conscious in its 
origin because it was immediate in its origin. We can 
not tell when this primary idea came to us ; but we know 
that we have it, and we are conscious that the notion repre- 
sents something real. The notion is not a figment of the 
imagination. The percept a cause thus presupposes the 
general notion oi causation, or U7iiversal cause. The mind 
acts according to this notion when it asks for the particu- 
lar cause of any effect. Why should we ask for a cause 
if deep down in the mind there is not the primary concep- 
tion that all effects are caused ? The same observations 
hold true of such ideas as those of number, being, infinity 
and others. 

DISTINCT CHARACTER OF PRIMARY IDEAS. 

148, 

"These primary ideas and truths are fundamental to, and pre- 
supposed in, the operations of the understanding, yet are not 
directly furnished by sense." 



224 INTUITION. 

The quoted words are those of Dr. Haven ; they denote 
the distinct character of these ideas and their consequent 
distinct origin. The understanding in its operations upon 
Mathematics, History, Justice, Philosophy, Aesthetics 
and Ethics, presupposes the fundamental notions of un- 
measured space and time, of absolute identity, of univer- 
sal cause, of absolute beauty, and of absolute right. Yet 
it is true that none of these primary notions is directly 
furnished by sense. We can experience a space, a time, 
etc. ; but we can never experience unmeasured space, uni- 
versal cause, etc. Perception is only the occasion in the 
origin of such ideas. The distinct character of primary 
ideas is shown by the fact that the mind can not conceive 
of space or any other primary notion as an image or re- 
presentation ; we can never point to a concrete thing as the 
measure of a primary idea. We may, for example, com- 
pare two books. We can see the books and know their 
equality ; but we can never see the pre- supposed notion of 
abstract, absolute equality. The external world affords 
sense-occasions ; these we can see or know as percepts. 
The mind immediately conceives notions of things super- 
sensible, notions of realities, but realities beyond the do- 
main of sense. The character of primary ideas is distinct 
and so is their origiii. If this be true, they must be re- 
ferred to a distinct power of the mind. This power must 
have a peculiar function and the function must be in 
some measure voluntary. Thus we come back to the de- 
finition of intuition as the power of immediate conception 
of primary ideas and truths. 

149' 

The function of intuition is immediate conception dependent 
upon sense-occasions. 

Impossible Origins. — Intuition is not presentative, 
not representative, not reflective ; it is the faculty of imme- 



INTUITION. 225 

diate conception. Primary ideas, as we have seen, can not 
come to us through pkrckption. They are not the pro- 
duct of a presentativepower ; presentation is entirely ab- 
sent. The primary ideas are, so to speak, native products 
of the mind ; ideas that spring up almost spontaneously. 
They can not be the products of the representative power, 
because what has never been presented can not be repre- 
sented. Memory can, therefore, not furnish these pro- 
ducts. Moreover, presentative products partake of the na- 
ture of images ; but this is never true of the intuitive ideas. 
Nor are they the products of imagination, mere figments 
of fancy ; because these primary notions represent the real^ 
not the ideal. Primary ideas are not the products of re- 
flection. The child wakes up out of non-existence with 
the active capacity of immediate intuition. No amount of 
reflection will produce primary ideas, nor do we slowly 
gather one after the other. There is no chronological suc- 
cession in the birth of primary ideas. I^ogically , of course, 
they depended upon the succession of suitable occasions. 
We do not, however, know when they came to us ; they 
are not reflective but immediate products of a distinct 
power. This power is not active apart from suggestion, 
and the suggestion must come from the external world. 
lyCt us notice the process of original conception. 

ORIGIN OF PRIMARY IDEAS. 

150. 

Immediate conception of Reason requires a suggestive sense- 
occasion and a sub-conscious producing activity. 

Suggestion from Sense- Occasions.— We have 
already noticed the meaning of an occasion. When we 
modify the word by saying sense-occasion, we refer to the 
fact that the necessary condition of intuitive activity is 
external rather than internal. The word sense refers thus 



226 INTUITION. 

to the mission of perception as the mind's medium of con- 
contact with the external world. The sense- occasion may 
be a space, a time, an identity, a cause, a beautiful thing, 
a right or wrong act, an equality, a number, a substance, 
etc. These sense-occasions must be suggestive occasions. 
An Active Power to Catch Suggestions. — 
Perhaps we have no idea or thought that was absolutely 
unpreceded by suggestion. We have already learned the 
mission of suggestion in the memory, in imagination and in 
the understanding. It must be remembered now that sug- 
gestion is always external and passive. When we say 
that suggestion is external, we refer to its origin, whether 
that origin be one of sense or of thought. Even when 
another mind suggests a thought to our mind, that sug- 
gestion originated in another mind, not in ours ; it was 
external to our mind. We do not speak of suggestion as 
produced by. the mind, but as coming to the mind. Of 
course, it is plain that nothing can of itself become a sug- 
gestion. When there is no mind to catch and receive the 
suggestion, no power of the mind to act in the presence of 
suggestions, there can be no mental products. It is the 
mind that catches these suggestive occasions and operates 
according to the function of the particular faculty that 
catches the suggestion. This is, then, what is meant by 
saying that suggestion is pavSsive. Suggestion origi7iates 
nothing, but it is the condition under which the mind acts 
in a certain way. Intuition, or Rkason, as it is often 
called, is such an active power. It also, like other facul- 
ties, catches suggestions coming from an external world. 
The products of the active Reason are, however, distinct 
in their character, they are products peculiar to the hu- 
man mind. It is thus right to call man a rational ani- 
mal ; he is endowed with a faculty that furnishes his 
mind with fundamental ideas and truths. The brute may 
know a space, a time, a cause, etc. ; but the brute mind 



INTUITION. 227 

never knows these notions in the primary and universal 
sense. 

While suggestion is external in its origin, the ideas 
originated in the presence of these suggestions are inter- 
nal. Ideas are always internal whether their source be 
perception or intuition. We may perhaps distinguish 
ideas of perception from ideas of intuition by saying that 
the former represent external realities and that the latter 
represent rather internal, mental realities. But in all 
cases Intuition is dependent upon suggestion only as a 
cause is dependent upon an occasion. That is, while in- 
tuition would not act except under condition, it will act 
under condition, and this condition is not the agency that 
produces, but the material caught, worked upon. It is 
something like saying that a sculptor would not work if 
he had no material to work upon. The material is, how- 
ever, not the cause of the statue. So Intuition, not sug- 
gestion, is the cause of primary ideas. 

Immediate and Sub- Conscious Process, — The 
process is immediate, and so immediate that the process is 
a sub-conscious activity ; we can not tell just when our 
mind conceived the idea of infinity or identity ; though 
we know we have such ideas. Nor can we say the origi- 
nating of such ideas is an unconscious activity of the 
mind. We intuitively know this to be an inadequate ac- 
count of mental energy. What, then, makes this activity 
a sub-co?iscious something ? It is the immediateness of the 
activity. This is perhaps made clearer by reference to 
experience in the perception of a beautiful thing. We 
are far more conscious of the feeling that succeds the in- 
tellectual perception, and yet we are also a sort of con- 
scious of the preceding intellectual perception. The pro- 
ducing activity of intuition or reason is not reducible to a 
passive receptivity. That would be a reduction ad absur- 
ditm. It would virtually imply that the ideas which dis- 



228 INTUITION. 

tinguish man from the brute, originate in an involuntary 
way, thus making man a creature of fatality, a helpless 
victim of suggestive environments. 

A Semi- Voluntary Power, — If intuition is sub- 
conscious, it follows that its activity is also semi-voluntary . 
The activity is not as definitely voluntary as that of the 
other faculties ; but perhaps this follows from the fact 
that we can not apply the activity to a sensible object. Our 
recognition of the existence of these ideas is easily made 
voluntary. The originating activity is often involuntary 
or semi- voluntary ; but the putting of the mind into con- 
tact with a sense -occasion may be and often is voluntary. 
We thus indirectly have voluntary power over intuition. 

Every primary idea is a product, an effect ; but every 
effect requires a cause, and no cause will act without an 
occasion. Every effect thus requires two things, a cause 
and its occasion. Cause and occasion are inseparable. If 
this truth be clearly grasped, we shall be able to show 
that indirectly intuition is a voluntary power. We do 
have voluntary perception ; but perception is the i?isepar- 
able occasion of intuitive activity ; therefore, intuitive ac- 
tivity is that of a voluntary power. This is not saying 
that perception is always voluntary nor that intuition is 
always voluntary ; but that the power is voluntary in its 
capacity. We may not always use our voluntary power ; 
and yet we possess this power. Moreover, we are volun- 
tary in the use of primary ideas. This will appear from 
our experience in reasoning or remembering, etc. 

FUNDAMENTAL DOMAIN. 

Logically, intuitive activity follows perceptive activity ; but 
chronologically, intuitive activity is simultaneous with perceptive 
activity. 



INTUITION. 229 

Intuitive activity is fundamental to the activity of memory, 
imagination, judgment and reasoning. 

Significance of a Fundamental Poirei-.— The 

facts indicated in the preceding propositions are important 
in the science of mind. Our clear understanding of the 
domain of intuition as a mental power, will help us to 
grasp the immeasurable difference between human mind 
and brute mind. The intuition furnishes the human 
mind with conceptions beyond the grasp of the brute 
world. Intuition makes man a rational being — a being 
responsible for his actions because he is intuitively a free 
agent. Without the conceptions of intuition, science and 
reasoning would be no longer possible for want of a be- 
ginning. The superiority of the soul, her notions of im- 
mortality and future retribution, grow out of the fact that 
we are endowed with intuition. For these reasons and 
similar ones, it is necessary to devote some words to the 
above propositions. 

Relation of Intuition and Perception, — IvOgi- 

cally, intuitive activity follows perceptive activity ; but, 
chronologically, intuitive activity is simultaneous with 
perceptive activity. Perception and Intuition are both 
faculties of the mind. Both faculties had their simulta- 
neous birth in the birth of mind ; but the activity of in- 
tuition logically follows the activity of perception. Per- 
ception puts the mind in contact with sense- occasions. 
In the moment of sense- contact with the external world 
the mind catches two kinds of ideas : perception catches a 
suggestion and intuition catches a suggestion. Both in- 
tuition and perception now produce ideas in accordance 
with the respective sense-suggestions. The senses thus 
become the gate-ways for two distinct faculties. The 
ideas produced by perception are called percepts ; but the 



230 INTUITION. 

ideas produced by intuition are notions and concepts. In- 
tuition catches a suggestion that leads to an idea far wid- 
er than that of perception. It is as if two minds worked 
upon the same marble ; the master-mind would create a 
finer statue than the novice-mind. While this shows 
the high sphere of intuition, it must be said that logical- 
ly the percept precedes the notion or concept. Were there 
for some reason no percept, there could be no concept. 
Chronologically, the two products are simultaneous. 

Remembrance of the Birth of Intuitive Ideas, 

— Though the percept and the primary idea are simulta- 
neous, the percept remains longer within the revealing 
light of consciousness. This is why we can not recall the 
exact time of the origiji of a primary idea. The intuitive 
idea vanishes, as it were, into sub -consciousness, so quick- 
ly that the percept seems to be the only product. We re- 
member the origin of the percept because it was in the 
mind's clear light for a longer time. The birth of an in- 
tuitive idea may thus occur simultaneously with a percep- 
tive idea, and yet so quickly fade out of full consciousness 
into sub-consciousness that most of us never knew we had 
intuitive ideas, until we began the study of intuition in 
mental science. 

Illustration. — I see a log as extended : my percept is 
log- extension ; my intuitive idea is that of space, the neces- 
sary condition of extension. Logically, I knew log-exten- 
sion before I knew space. But the idea of space came to 
the mind simultaneously with the idea of log -ex tension. 
I am fully conscious of the idea of log-extension ; but only 
sub-conscious of my idea of space. That I must have got- 
ten the idea of space in this way, follows from the fact 
that I could not know log-extension apart from the notion 
of all extension or space. The same may be applied to all 
percepts. 



INTUITION. 231 

Relation of Intuitioh to Recognition. — The ul- 
timate function of memory is recognition. But w/ia^ 
do we recognize ? We recognize a former item of con- 
sciousness as now recalled by memory. This is a partic- 
ular identity ; back of it lies the primary idea of absolute 
IDENTITY. Apart from this primary notion, we can not 
tell why the memory should try to recollect anything at 
all. Back of the recognition, lies the motive of memory- 
activity. The recognition of a particular identity would 
be impossible apart from the intuitive belief i}Li2X there is 
such a thirig as identity. There could be no recognition 
apart frdm the fundamental idea of identity. The topic 
will be resumed under its proper heading. 

Relation of Intuition to Imagination.— The 
ideal creations of imagination pre-suppose the primary 
idea of space, of the beautiful, etc. Imagination is lim- 
ited in its activity by several of these ideas. We may have 
imagined or dreamt that befell or flew ; but we always 
fell or flew through space. We can not imagine anything 
outside of space. We can not imagine anything that does 
not pre-suppose the ideas of <?;>:^^/^;^r^, number, infinity, etc. 
We thus see that intuition is fundamental to imagination. 

Relation of Intuition to Judgment, — The pur- 
pose of judgment is to detect a particular agreement or 
disagreement. This pre-supposes the primary notion of 
EQUALITY. Why should we look for an agreement if the 
mind had no idea that there was such a thing as equality ? 

Relation of Intuition to Generalization. — As 
a preparatory function, generalization belongs to judg- 
ment. By generalization we synthesize abstracts into a 
concept ; but such a concept never comprehends anything 
not furnished by perception, by experience. By such a 
synthesis we can not get the ideas of space, existence, in- 
finity. These ideas comprehend a great deal more than 
our synthesis of abstracts could furnish. We have never 



232 INTUITION. 

experienced, all the space, existence, infinity, etc., that are 
denoted by our concepts of these things. We conclude, 
then, that neither abstraction nor generalization can fur- 
nish primary ideas ; but that abstraction and generaliza- 
tion presuppose intuition. 

Relation of Intuition to Reasoning, — The axi- 
oms of mathematics and the laws of logic are statements 
of primary truths. These axioms are not the product of 
reasoning ; but reasoning operates according to these 
truths, pre-supposes these as fundamental laws of human 
belief. Every axiom and law of logic is the outgrowth 
of an intuitive 2^(?<2. The axiom, "Two things separate- 
ly equal to a third thing are equal to each other' ' , is an 
outgrowth of the idea of KQUA1.1TY. The necessary truth 
that, ''What is true of the whole is true of its parts", is 
an outgrowth of the idea of idkntity. All necessary 
truths and axioms are primary truths of intuition, In- 
tuition is thus fundamental to reasoning. 

The products of intuition are not only primary ideas but also 
primary truths. 

An IDKA is a mental product that can be expressed in a 
single word or in a phrase. The primary sources of ideas 
are pejxeptioyi and intuition. "A primary idKA is one 
not furnished by sense or derived from other ideas' ' . Pri- 
mary ideas are notions which lie back of and condition all 
other ideas. A truth is a true thought, a combination 
of ideas. A thought expressed in words is called a propo- 
sition. The sources of truths are judgment, reasoning and 
intuition. ' 'A primary truth is a truth which lies back 
of and conditions all other truths' ' . We have already il- 
lustrated primary ideas. The axioms of mathematics and 
the laws of thought are primary truths. Examples : The 



INTUITION. 233 

whole is equal to the sum of all its parts. A thing can 
not, at the same moment, both exist and not exist. 

^numeration, — We have already noticed primary 
ideas, have proved their existence, their origin, their 
character, their relation to other mental products, and 
their lofty mission. The primary ideas usually admitted 
as such are: i. Space. 2. Time. 3. Identity. 4. Cause. 
5. The Beautiful. 6. The Right. 7. The True. 8. Num- 
ber. 9. Equality. 10. Existence. 11. Substance. 
12. Infinity. By and by we shall examine some of these 
in detail ; but for the present we shall examine primary 
truths. 

PRIMA RV TRUTHS. 
154' 

A primary truth is a self-evident truth not derived from other 
truths but fundamental to other truths. 

Chronological Relation of Ideas and Truths. 

— The nucleus of every primary truth is a primary idea. 
This indicates the chronological relation of the idea and 
the truth. The idea chronologically precedes the truth. 
This is not always clearly noticed by writers on mental 
science. Some writers hold that the truth precedes the 
idea. This seems to be a logical fallacy which we can 
detect by an examination of a primary truth. I^et us take 
for example the primary truth, "All material existences 
occupy space". The nucleus of this judgment, or truth, 
is the idea of space:. It is surely not possible ordinarily 
to conceive oi judgmeyits before we have ideas. The child- 
mind steps from ideas to thought. This is the natural 
way. By analogy we should conclude that primary 
truths are formed in the same way. Apart from this pre- 
sumption, the composition of the truth can not be account- 



234 INTUITION. 

ed for, unless it is actually a composition by the mind — a 
composition based upon a nucleus, the primary idea. In 
the above example the nucleus is the idea of space. Bod- 
ies are noticed as extended in space : the first notion is 
space ; the second, the truth stated above. 

Existence of Primary Truths, — Some few writ- 
ers, the so-called experiential school, deny the existence 
of self-evident, or primary truths. They hold that all 
such truths are products derived from sense-experience ; 
they claim that such truths are the products of judgment 
and reasoning. Most writers admit the existence of pri- 
mary truths. Among those who admit that we have self- 
evident and fundamental truths of intuition, are Bacon, 
Leibnitz and Kant. 

Historical Names of Prim^ary Truths, — Vari- 
ous names have been given to these primary, fundamen- 
tal truths. Primary truths have been called instinctive 

BKI.IKFS, instinctive JUDGMENTS, A PRIORI COGNITIONS, 

FUNDAMENTAL I.AWS of human belief. The word instinc- 
tive denotes spontaneous origin. The phrase a priori re- 
fers to an origin not dependent upon a reflective process 
or upon experience. The other terms used explain them- 
selves. Apart from the admission of philosophers that we 
do have primary truths, let us try to prove that the ad- 
mission is correct and that these truths are not derived 
from other ideas ; but that they are distinct products. 

Primary Truths Are not Derived Truths. — 
We have found that Judgment and Reasoning furnish 
the mind with thoughts or truths. These truths are the 
products of direct comparison, generalization and mediate 
comparison. Direct comparison of particular ideas gives 
us a particular judgment, a part icui^ar truth. Ex- 
amples : Paul is a man. "Heat expands iron". Experi- 
mental induction furnishes the mind with a general 
TRUTH. Example: "Heat expands all metals". De- 



INTUITION. 235 

ductioii furnishes the mind with deductive truths. 
Example : The square of the hypotenuse is equal to the 
sum of the squares of the other two sides of a right angled 
triangle. Generalization also furnishes truths. Exam- 
ples : The deer is a quadruped. Man is an animal. All 
these truths are derived from the domain of sense ; they 
are less in extent than self-evident truths. 

Jitdg7nent Ca7i Not Flemish primary truths. — Take for 
example the truth, "Two things separately equal to a 
third thing are equal to each other". Can any experience 
be so wide as to guarantee such a judgment ? Nor does 
judgment furnish this truth ; for this truth lies back of 
judgment. We should never look for the equalit}^ of two 
things, did we not have the /^^??^«;;?^«/«/ notion of equali- 
ty. 

Reasoni7ig Can Not Furnish seLF-evident truths. — 
These truths lie back of induction and deduction. The 
primary truths are fundamental laws of thought in the 
reasoning processes. Reasoning does furnish truths, but 
not such a truth as, (2 -|- 2) = 4. This truth is not a 
deductive judgment nor an inductive judgment ; it is the 
fundamental pre-supposition in operations of mathematics. 
Nor could reasoning furnish such a truth as, Conduct 
must be either right or wrong. Back of all inference from 
particular judgments, such as, Paul is wrong and John is 
right, lies the notion, the self-evident, irresistible truth 
that, All conduct must be either right or wrong. 

"Take away these elementary truths, and neither science nor 
reasoning is longer possible, for want of a beginning or founda- 
tion." 

The preceding proposition indicates a line of proof for 
the existence of primary truths, truths of intuition. There 
II 



236 INTUITION. 

are a number of such elementary truths upon which we 
base all scientific products. Let us learn how to recog- 
nize them by their invariable criteria. 

TESTS OF PRIMARY TRUTHS. 

156, 

Primary truths are recognized by such tests as self-evidence, 
necessity, simplicity, and universality. 

Tests of Primary Truths. — The thoughtful stu- 
dent will want to know how to recognize and to distin- 
guish primary truths. Hamilton and Reid enumerate 
some five tests. The most usual tests are those mentioned 
in our proposition. 

Self-Evidence, — A primary truth carries its own 
evidence. lyCt us take an example : "All material bodies 
occupy space' ' . This truth is at once admitted by every 
one whose mind is sufficiently mature and intelligent to 
comprehend the meaning of the truth. The evidence lies 
in our own mind. We can not doubt it. We do not 
doubt the evidence of our mind. We can not conceive 
the contrary. We never expect an exception to this truth 
founded upon the primary idea of space. All bodies must 
occupy spac2. If our best friend told us he had found an 
exception, we should rather disbelieve him than such a 
truth. W^e may not be able formally to state the self- evi- 
dence of a logical or mathematical axiom, but we act upon 
such axiom as if we knew its self-evidence. We never 
ask any one to prove an axiom. When the mind has 
grasped the statement of such an axiom as, "Space con- 
tains all material objects", we never try to prove it by in- 
duction or deduction. 

Necessity. — A primary truth is a necessary truth. 
We have already seen that a necessary truth is an unal- 



INI^UITION. 237 

terable truth ; it can not but be as it is ; the contrary sup- 
position is absurd. Time, place, agency, environments, 
can not alter the truth stated when we affirm that (2 -|- 2) 
= 4. Our judgment and reasoning operate upon this 
truth with implicit belief. It is an instinctive belief. A 
primary truth will remain a truth in Kternity as it is in 
Time. A primary truth has always been a necessary 
truth and always will be. We can not even imagine that 
God would change such a primary truth. The mind can 
go back no further in its test than the primary truth. 
Search for proof makes the mind feel like a great blank. 
Though men have tried to make themselves believe that 
"Phenomena are uncaused," they practically reeled back 
upon some confession that the , world was not made by 
chance. The sceptic in his premises assumes necessary 
truths, and thus foils his own skepticism. Theory may 
vaunt itself, and Unbelief may exclaim, "There is no 
God" , but careful observation will show that these very 
men act upon the belief that "Phenomena are caused." 
They confess the necessary truth in their daily conduct. 
Simplicity, — A primary truth is not derived from 
components ; it is not complex ; it can not be analyzed 
into any more simple judgment. We may alter the sen- 
tence ; but the judgment remains the same. It is impos- 
sible to derive a primary truth from induction. The truth 
has beeen in the mind and has been acted upon prior to 
education and reflection. Induction could only vouch for 
probability ; but a primary truth is not merely probable, 
is not contingent. We may always ask for the proof of a 
contingent truth, and we dare expect a proof ; but we never 
ask for an analysis of a primary truth. Let us notice the 
difference between such a simple, a priori truth and one 
derived from induction or reflection. Both may be neces- 
sary truths, and yet one is derived, the other is a priori. 
* 'All bodies gravitate towards an ultimate centre. ' ' ' 'The 



238 INTUITION. 

whole is greater than any of its parts. ' ' The former is a 
derived truth ; it is based upon induction. The concki- 
sion may be absolutely certain ; but we can analyze the 
judgment, retrace its origin into many particular hypothe- 
ses and analogies. The latter is an a priori, a simple 
truth, that cannot be analyzed. It is a simple judgment 
bas^d on the idea of identity or equality. Disagreement 
is predicated of the whole and any of its parts. A con- 
trary supposition also leads to the absurd. 

JJniverssility, — A primary truth is a universal truth. 
This follows from the fact that a primary truth is a neces- 
sary truth. A primary truth is a universal truth, because 
it is acted upon by all men of every clime and age. That 
Paul can not at the same moment exist and not exist, 
would not ba doubted by anybody. The truth would be 
called a truth by child or man as soon as either compre- 
hended the meaning of the thought. Though men dis- 
agree about many inductions from experiment, analogy, 
testimony and hypothesis, they all agree in the admission 
of a primary truth. They may not know how to express 
a primary truth, they may be only sub- conscious of the 
existence of such truths, they may not be able to test 
such a truth by proper criteria, nor to recognize primary 
truths as such in distinction from other comprehended 
truths ; but not-withstanding these possible limitations, 
all men act upon primary truths as necessary and self-evi- 
dent beliefs. The philosophical systems of Egypt and 
Persia and Greece and Rome and the Modern world, are 
universal admissions of the existence of primary truths. 
Every man will detect himself conforming his conduct to 
such truths. They are the necessary conditions of a rea- 
sonable and responsible human life. 

JEniimeration of Primary Truths. — Primary 
truths are based upon primary ideas. A number of pri- 
mary truths are based upon every primary idea. The 



INTUITION. 239 

idea is made the nucleus of the truth. It is, how- 
ever, not very easy to arrange an inchisive enumeration, 
and this has usually been regarded as practically impos- 
sible. lyOgically it is possible ; but philosophers have, as 
it seems, never undertaken to arrange such an enumera- 
tion. We shall enumerate several primary truths based 
upon the various primary ideas. The student may add 
an indefinite number according to choice. 

Based Upon Space, — "Space is the necessary con- 
dition of material existence," "Matter can not exist out 
of space, ' ' ' 'AH matter is contained in space, ' ' ' 'All matter 
occupies spsice,'' "All motion is in space," "All motion 
progresses from point to point in space," "All motion 
must end within space." 

Based upon Time. — "Time is the necessary condi- 
tion of events, " "All events must be in time," "Every 
event occupies time," "All thought-motion occupies 
time," "Continued existence occupies time." 

Based upon Identity, — "A thing cannot doi/i be 
and 7iot be,'' "A thing must either be or not be," I am the 

A. \ 

^2i\x\& person to-day as I was yesterday, A = ( 2 H" i)- 

Based Upon Cause, — "All phenomena are caused," 
"There is a great First Cause," "I am the cause of my 
own conduct," "I am not 7nj' oivn cause." 

Based on the Beautiful, — "Not all things are 
beautiful," "Some things must be beautiful," "Some 
things must be not- beautiful," "I am either beautiful or 
not-beautiful." 

Based on the Right, — "Some things are absolute- 
ly right," "The true must be either right or not-right," 
"The true can not be both right and not- right," "I am a 
moral being," "I am a free agent," "God is the Absolute 
Right." We shall not attempt to enumerate other pri- 



240 INTUITION. 

mary truthvS ; but sum them up in a comprehensive prop- 
osition. 

Personal existence, personal identity, universal cause, mate- 
rial existence, uniformity of nature, personal freedom, God's in- 
finity, etc., are primary truths. 

The thoughtful student will readily notice the wide ap- 
plication of primary truths. Every science, whether in- 
ductive or deductive, involves such truths. Inductive 
science pre-supposes them ; they are fundamental start- 
ing points. Deductive science is an unfolding of such 
truths. Mathematics and Logic are based upon axioms, 
and these axioms are primary truths. The principles of 
Aesthetics and Kthics are primary truths. Ontology 
is the science of Being. It is based upon the notion of 
existe?ice. 

PRIMARY IDEAS IN DETAIL. 

The ideas of Intuition may be classified under several 
heads. We shall indicate these heads as follows : 

I. The True. II. The Aesthetic. III. The Right. 

The True and the Aesthetic and the Right here denote 
wide boundary lines. The True includes such ideas as : 
I. Space. 2. Time. 3. Identity. 4. Cause. The Aes^ 
thetic includes modifications usually indicated as The 
Beautiful, The Sublime, Wit and Humor. It involves 
the discussion of Taste. The Right includes all the mod- 
ifications of the Moral. It involves the discussion of 
Conscience. Such ideas as Number, Equality, Existence, 
Substance and Infinity, can not be treated of in the limits 
of a common text-book. 



INTUITION. 241 

A. vSPACE. 

Space is the necessary condition of material existence ; it is 
something real and yet neither matter nor mind. 

Nature of Space. — We know what we mean by 
space, and yet can not accurately define it. We know 
what is meant by saying that all matter occupies space, 
and that matter can not exist outside of space. For want 
of more definite terms, philosophers have defined space as 
the necessary condition of material existence. It is not 
matter ; but the condition of matter. All matter has ex- 
tension ; extension is the inseparable attribute of all mat- 
ter ; and extension implies space. There could be no 
extension if there were no space. Space is not matter ; 
for it has none of , the qualities of matter. Since it is not 
matter, it can not be annihilated. It is to be doubted 
whether any power can or, at any rate ivill, annihilate 
space. Space is not mind or spirit ; it is not a spiritual 
substance ; for it has not the attribute of intelligence. 
We might even say that space is the condition of spiritual 
movement, of the movements of personal spirits, and there- 
fore that it is not itself spiritual. And yet space is a re- 
ality. It is an independent reality. It is not a mere 
idea, a conception of the mind, as some writers tried to 
imagine. If it were merely a figment of fancy, or an idea, 
then ideas would be the condition of space as an exis- 
tence, and wherever there is an absence of ideas, there 
ought to be no space. This is surely an absurd view. We 
can not imagine that there is no space over a great desert 
even when there is no human being to conceive the idea 
of space. We can not fairly suppose that if all minds 
were annihilated there could be no space. The thought 
is beyond Reason and beyond proof. 



242 INTUITION. 



159- 



The idea of space is conceived by Intuition when Perception 
presents the proper occasion for suggestion. 

Origin of the Idea, — We do have the idea of space. 
Whither shall we trace its origin ? When did the idea 
come to us, and what was the occasion ? We can not trace 
the origin of the idea of space to abstraction ; for space is 
not a quality, such as color, form, or hardness. Space is 
not a percept, and on this ground can not fall under the 
operation of abstraction. We can not refer it to generali- 
zation ; for generalization is a synthesis of abstracts. And 
moreover, generalization being a mere synthesis of ab- 
stracts obtained from sense -experience, could never fur- 
nish so wide an idea as that of space. Judgment proper 
and reasoning do not deal with ideas as such ; but with 
thoughts and truths. Hence, we must refer the idea of 
space to a distinct power. This power is intuition. In- 
tuition conceives the idea in our earliest perceptions of 
bodies as extended. Perception presents the quality of 
extension. A stone, or a book, or a log has extension. 
If so, they occupy vSpace ; since space is the necessary con- 
dition of extension. The perception of extension in mat- 
ter thus becomes a suggestion. Intuition catches this sug- 
gestion, and operates simultaneously with perception. 
There are thus two products formed. The one is a per- 
cept, the other a sort of concept. It is, however, a far 
wider concept than those of generalization. It is a con- 
cept of intuition, and is formed so instantaneously that 
the idea fades at once into sub -consciousness. It is also 
to be noticed that perception is the necessary occasion for 
intuitive activity. Apart from the perception of bodies as 
extended, there would be no idea of space. There would 
be space ; but not the idea of space. The idea of space 
is thus conceived by intuition when perception presents 



INTUITION. 243 

the proper sense-occasion. The occasion has no power 
of suggestion in itself ; but intuition becomes operative 
under the occasion. 

160, 

Upon the attributes of space are based the axioms of theo- 
retical and applied Geometry. 

Attributes of Space. — As a real something, space 
has several attributes, i. It is contiyiuoiis ; hence it can 
not be broken, or hindered from continuous dimension. 
2. It has three dimensions, and is therefore capable of 
measurement. 3. It is therefore quantitative and may be 
estimated as much or little. 4. It is the condition of ex- 
tension and thus gives rise to yf^^^r^, 6>ry^r/;2, 5. \\.\^ in- 
finite in direction. We may enumerate these attributes 
as : I. Continuousness. 2. Dimension. 3. Quantity. 
4. Permission of Form. 5. Infinity. Upon these attri- 
butes are based such axioms as "All matter occupies 
space," All motion occurs in space, etc. The science of 
Geometry and its practical application in mensuration, 
trigonometry, etc., grow out of a deductive analysis of 
space and the forms of which space admits. Geometry as 
the science oiforin and of quantity, is not only of practi- 
cal value ; but is a most potent factor in mental discipline. 
While the culture of reasoning in Geometry does not im- 
ply good judgment in the affairs of life, or even a thorough 
comprehension of the higher ideas of intuition, and while 
it confines its activity \.o foinn and quantity, it may fit the 
normal mind for more acute and accurate reasoning in 
other departments of deduction or induction. While the 
study of Geometr}^ is not a test of moralit}^ or intellectu- 
al balance, it is a study developed early in every civiliza- 
tion and indicates constructive energies of reason. Much 
more may be said upon the application of space and the 
idea of space. 
II''' 



244 INTUITION. 

B. TIMK. 

i6i. 

Time is the necessary condition of successive existence ; it is 
something real rather than a mere idea or a mere relation. 

Nature of Xime. — We know what is meant by say- 
ing that all motion occupies time ; and, that apart from 
time, there could be no motion, no change, no succes- 
sion, no events ; but it is not an easy matter to define 
time. If time as an objective reality became also an ob- 
ject of sense- perception, we should be able to define it ; 
but since time is nof an object of sense, we are at a loss 
for words to define it. It is possible, however, to show 
what it is not Indirectly we may also show what it is. 
We are ready to admit that fwte and the idea of time are 
two different things. If time is merely an idea, the re- 
moval of minds would remove all time. This is contrary 
to Reason and proof. We know that time is not affected 
or annihilated by the absence of the idea of time. Our 
idea of time is a variable something ; but time is an in- 
variable something, a something to be accurately meas- 
ured by mechanical contrivance. The construction of 
clocks and watches is a visible proof that time is some- 
thing objective, a reality not even depende7it upon ideas. 
Nor is time a mere relation of successive ideas or thoughts, 
as if the relation of thoughts had a certain effect upon 
our mind and this effect were time. In this case, if we 
could remove thought, the relation of thoughts would no 
longer exist and, therefore, time would be annihilated. 
But we do not usually think of time as a something that 
can be annihilated. Time there is, whether there be 
thought or no thought. The blotting out of thought as 
it occurs in death does not result in annihilation of any 
time ; such a thing is unimaginable. Succession is an at- 



I N T U I T'l O N . 245 

tribute of events ; and time is the necessan- condition of 
succession. No historical event ever occurred outside of 
time, and no spiritual movement can occur outside of 
time. This holds tru'^ of the future world as well as of 
the present. The continuation of thought in the world to 
come, will depend upon time. We ma}-, then, speak of time 
as the space of duration. Someivhere in time is as definite 
a notion as somewhere in place. Even the transmission 
of sensations from the hand to the brain occupies time, 
and the moment of sensation is someichere in time. Sen- 
sation and thought are conditioned by qitantity and point 
of time, though time is independent of sensation or thought. 
Thinking occupies time just as much so as a passing 
wagon. All motion whether of matter or thought is con- 
ditioned by time. 

The idea of time is conceived by Intuition when Perception 
presents the proper occasion for suggestion. 

Origin of the Idea of Time. — We do have the 
idea of time. Whither shall we trace its origin ? When 
did the idea come to us, and w^hat was the occasion ? 
The idea of time is not a product oi perception. Time can 
not be presented b}- an}- of the senses ; since it has not 
the qualities of an object of sense. It has no color, no 
form, no sweetness, no quality for perception. The idea 
of time does not originate from abstraction, because ab- 
sti'action draws away qualities of sense- objects. Since 
time is not a quality, but a thing, it can not enter the 
mind as an abstract, or a succession of abstracts ; w^e can 
not get the idea of time hy generalization. Generalization 
could only sjmthesize experienced abstracts. Such a sjm- 
thesis sureh' could not give birth to our idea of time. 
This idea is a far wider concept. Indeed, it is not a con- 



246 intItition. 

cept in the ordinary sense of synthesis ; but an instanta- 
neous concept of intuition. So instantaneous is the con- 
cept of time that we have not the least recollection of the 
experience that first suggested time. The first concept 
of time was a stib-conscions birth of an intuitive idea. It 
is, however, true that, apart from the suggestion furnished 
by perception or consciousness, we should never have got- 
ten the idea of time. How, then, did this idea come to 
us and what was the occasion ? The idea of time came to 
us in our earliest experience of thoughts. These thoughts 
were not stationary, but successive. Succession is the 
characteristic of events and of thoughts. Each thought 
and each event occurred sonieivhcre in time and occupied 
some time. This is a matter of experience. The expe- 
rience may be furnished by consciousness or by percep- 
tion. The experience of events and thoughts as protended 
in time becomes a suggestion for intuition. Just as the 
experience of bodies as extended implies space, so the ex- 
perience of events and thoughts as protended implies 
time. Intuition catches this suggestion, and the instan- 
taneous intuitive product is the idea of time. The first 
cognition of a thought as protended in time was instanta- 
neously accompanied by the activity of intuition. The 
product of this activity was the idea of time. We can 
not remember this first experience, nor the birth of the 
idea of time. Because this birth was instantaneous, it at 
once became a sub-conscious mental product. 

J63, 

Our measurement of time is a slow acquirement, and is mod- 
ified by age, sleep and absorbing pursuits. 

Measurement of Time. — The idea of time is an 
early intuitive product ; but the child can not at once ac- 
curately estimate time. The little child is, as it were, 



INTUITION. 247 

lost somewhere in time and can not find his way out until 
later in life. Age, sleep and self-absorption, cause the 
child to lose his place, his somewhere in the series of his 
continuous existence. lyife is a series of succession. This 
succession is one of thoughts and events. Every soul has 
a somewhere in this series. The present somewhere, the 
present day, is measured by a gradually lengthening 
standard of measure. All that is past becomes this stand- 
ard in gradual succession. The little child thus measures 
his present day by the amount of his past. In proportion 
to this past, his present day is quite long. As the child 
grows oivDKR, his present day becomes shorter just as his 
past, his standard of comparison, becomes longer. The 
old man's present day is quite short in proportion to his 
past. The older we grow, the shorter seems our present 
day. Sleep affects our estimate of passing time, or our 
estimate of the time through which we are living. When 
we fall asleep, we lose our place in the series of daily ex- 
periences, and consequently lose our standard of measure- 
ment. This explains why dreams seem to occupy so much 
more time than they really do occupy. In the moment of 
waking up, we again find our place in the series, and thus 
recover our standard of measurement. It is to be noticed 
here that, without the measurement of time by clocks and 
watches, we can not usually remember our place in the 
day's programme. The hour passes quickly or slowly 
in proportion to a conseious cognition of our place in the 
day. Absorbing pursuits, the interesting recitation, 
the amusing lecture, the exciting game, thus cause us to 
lose our place in time, and consequently our standard of 
accurate measurement. It is of some importance to be 
able to remember yV^.y/ where in time we are in a da3^'s 
work. If we could remember this, we should always be 
able to estimate how much attention might be given to 
successive topics in a programme. The fact that the mind 



248 INTUITION. 

estimates the quantity of passing time by its proportion 
to a remembered past, explains why in God's mind "a 
thousand years are but as a day." 

164, 

Upon the attributes of time are based the axioms of practical 
life and its operations. 

The Attributes of Time. — As a real something, 
time has several attributes, i. It is continuous, that is, it 
can not be broken off, though calendars transfer a date. 
It can not be broken off, as if there was no time for half 
anight. 2. Since it is con tzmwus, it has dimension. Un- 
like space, it has dimension in only one direction — it has 
length. This length can be estimated. 3. Hence, time 
has the attribute of quantity. We estimate it as so much. 
4. Since it can be estimated as so much, it admits of the 
expression of quajitity. This expression is accomplished 
by NUMBER. Time thus is closely related to the idea of 
number, the basis of Arithmetical computation. 5. The 
quantity of time is infinite. Time, thus has the attribute 
of infinity. In practical life, time is measured as so 
much value. We measure the value of a life- time in pro- 
portion to our use of time. Time and our measure of it 
thus become the basis of computation. Number, or that 
by which we express the measurement of time, together 
with time, unfold themselves into all sorts of application. 
The unit of number and the unit of time are units upon 
which are based arithmetical calculations of infinite vari- 
ety. As a factor in labor, trade and development, time 
can hardly be estimated in its true value. In numerical 
calculation, time forms an element of capital and interest, 
determines by its seasons our sowings and harvests, un- 
folds the vast historical structure of ages, and bounds 
our aims and ambitions. A half hour lost is lost forever, 



INTUITION. 249 

because time is continuous. The fact that it has the at- 
tributes of length and infinity, leads the mind to grasp a 
little of the meaning of an infinite line into the past, and 
of an infinite line into future eternities. The practical 
value of time is best realized when we learn by conscious 
effort to use each passing hour for the glory of God. 

C. IDENTITY. 

165. 

Identity is not resemblance, not sameness of chemical com- 
position ; but absolute oneness and continuity of individual 
essence. 

Nature of Identity. — The word identity is derived 
from the Latin zde?n, and means sameness, a contimced 
sameness from some preceding moment to a subsequent 
moment. We might then briefly define identity as absolute 
oneness and continued sameness of individual essence. 
The question of identity is whether a perceived something 
or somebody is the same one or a different one from the 
one formerly perceived. I maj^ to-day see two school girls 
who resemble each other ever so much ; to-morrow I may 
see only 07ie of these girls ; but having once seen them 
together, I at once ask myself whether the one that I see 
is Nora or Cora. This is the question of identity. It 
can not be separated from at least two cognitions — one in 
the past and the other in the present or future. Identity 
is directly opposed to diversity as unity is opposed to plu- 
rality. The idea of identity always suggests that of plu- 
rality. It is thus a relative idea just like good, right, 
straight, etc. The opposite of such ideas is present as 
soon as one of them enters our consciousness. I can not 
think of identity without thinking of plurality as possible. 

Not Resemblance. — But identity is not resem- 
blance ; for resemblance implies at least tu'o things. The 



250 INTUITION. 

very word resemblance is opposed to continued oneness 
or non-otherness. Whenever we speak of things that re- 
semble each other, there is other- ness. Resemblance 
there may be along with identity ; but often, perhaps 
usually, there is no resemblance, or but very little. There 
can be identity without resemblance, and there can be 
identity with some sort of resemblance ; but the resem- 
blance does not constitute the identity. I^et us take a 
concrete example of resemblance. Nora and Cora re- 
semble each other in complexion, size, voice, features and 
movement. Our first acquaintance with Nora and Cora 
may reveal these resemblances in a general way. On 
seeing one of them alone, we can not at once tell which 
is Nora or Cora ; but we do know that Nora is not Cora, 
and that Cora is not Nora in spite of all resemblances. 
When both are in our presence, we may not readily dis- 
tinguish Nora from Cora ; but we do know that there are 
two girls, not one girl. The Nora of to-day may resemble 
the Nora of yesterday. In this case there is resemblance 
and identity. The Nora of childhood, however, differs 
in many respects from the Nora of to-day and yet she is 
Nora, — she is not Cora nor anybody else but her identi- 
cal self. 

Not Sameness of Chemical Composition. — 
Nor does identity consist in sameness of chemical compo- 
sition. Two bird-eggs, two ant-eggs, two rain-drops, 
two rose-buds, or two pieces of wood, may have exactly 
the same chemical composition. They may resemble 
each other in size, weight, color, hardness, fiber, sub- 
stance, effect and in all other respects, but still the one is 
not the other, — the one is not identical with the other. 
Each one is identical only with itself A piece of rye- 
stalk six inches long may be cut off, and then divided in- 
to six equal pieces. These pieces have sameness of chem- 
ical composition ; but no one could think that the six 



INTUITION. 251 

pieces were identical, even if there is complete resem- 
blance. 

Identity Defined. — Identity is then absolute one- 
ness and continuity of individual essence. This con- 
tinued sameness may be complete or incomplete. If there 
is absolute sameness in anything, that thing is completely 
identical with itself. If there is comparative sameness, 
or general sameness, in anything, that thing is incom- 
pletely identical with itself. The latter is the popular 
sense of identity. God only has complete or absolute 
identity. He is absolutely unchangeable in all respects. 
Human beings have a less complete identity. Animals, 
plants and inorganic things have a still less complete 
identity. Indeed, we can predicate identity of inorganic 
matter and of organic matter ; but only in the popular 
sense. These distinctions give rise to several species of 
identity. We will enumerate them : i. Absolute iden- 
tity. 2. Personal identity. 3. Identity of organic mat- 
ter. 4. Identity of inorganic matter. 

FO[/J^ SPECIES OF WENT/ TV. 
166, 

Absolute identity is absolute oneness and continuity of indi- 
vidual essence, such as can be predicated of God. 

Absolute Identity. — Absolute identity does not per- 
mit any change of particles or any change of spiritual 
character. God is the same yesterday, to-day and forever. 
In a less complete sense we might predicate absolute iden- 
tity of angels. These beings are spirits. Since angels 
are not corporeal, there is no change or loss or addition 
of particles. According to the Word of God, some angels 
have changed in spiritual character. We now speak of 
good and of bad angels. The Bible predicates ab.solute 



252 INTUITION. 

identity of good angels and of bad angels. We must re- 
member, however, that the bad angel was once a good 
angel, and as such his life essence, his individuality was 
preserved. In other words, the bad angel of to-day is 
identical with the good angel of the da^^ before the Fall. 
In all these cases there is continuity of individual essence. 
There has been no break in the life of such spiritual be- 
ings, no other-ness, no exchange of one for another, no 
meta-morphosis. Absolute identity is also personal iden- 
tity ; but not all personal identity is absolute. 

J67. 

Personal identity is oneness and continuity of personal es- 
sence as evidenced by conscious intuition. 

Personal Identity. — We speak of human beings as 
having personal identity. Personal identity does not con- 
sist in resemblance or sameness of chemical composition. 
We may become old, stronger, taller, larger and wiser ; 
we may improve or go backward in character or body ; 
but each one of us still remains a one, the same one ; each 
one is still continued as a personal soul. As long as the 
soul continues to exist, each later self is identical with his 
former self. The Napoleon of St. Helena is identical with 
the Napoleon of Corsican birth. If this is not true, then 
at some particular moment, as at Waterloo, another soul, 
another individual essence miist have entered the body of 
Napoleon, taken up his former life thread, and continued 
it to St. Helena. What then became of the Napoleon- 
soul that lived in the same body before the battle of Wa- 
terloo ? The supposition is contradictory to Reason and 
proof. The very supposition implies two souls. These 
two souls resemble each other so much as to escape detec- 
tion ; and, by the supposition, the guilty soul escaped 
some whither and the new soul suffered exile at St. He- 



INTUITION. 253 

leiia ; but no one would say that the latter soul was 
the former unless the former has continued as the latter. 
If the soul in Eternity is not the same soul that lived 
either a pure life or an impure life on earth, what is it that 
is rewarded or punished ? The contradiction may be 
represented by the syllogism : a = b ; but b ^= c ; yet 
a = not c. 

168, 

The identity of organic matter is its continuity of life under 
the same general organization. 

Organic Matter and Its Identity, — Organic 
matter includes animal life and plant life. Zoology and 
Botany are descriptive of organic matter. We predicate 
identity of animals and plants. We never suppose that 
a horse becomes another horse, or that a tree becomes 
another tree. The heliotrope never becomes a pear-tree, 
and the pear-tree never becomes an oak-tree. In the an- 
imal and in the plant there is a something, a nerve-life 
or a sap-life, that continues from the germ into the full- 
grown animal or plant. The acorn germ is a diminutive 
oak ; the life of the germ is continued as the life of the 
oak. The horse may grow older, may become lean and 
lame ; but he is the same old horse that we rode down hill 
in our boyhood. The Elm that over- shadows the fountain 
is the same elm that stood there in our childhood. The 
tree grew, became stronger, the storms broke off a dozen 
drooping branches, and the ambitious boys may have 
robbed it of much of its bark ; but it is still the dear old 
tree under which we cooled our parched lips when sum- 
mer suns were burning hot. The identity of species and 
genera is no less certain than the identity of individual 
animals or plants. 



254 INTUITION. 

Botany and Zoology do not record a single case in 
which a mouse became a tiger, or that a wheat-germ 
sprouted and developed into a turnip. We never even 
look for such results, and would be surprised beyond meas- 
ure if any person should so report. Every animal and 
every plant preserves its individual identity under a gc7i- 
eral oiganization. The animal is known by essential 
characteristics, by some expression of a life- force that has 
continued the same unit from time to time. The horse, 
for example, is known by his neigh and his hoof. The 
plant is known by its peculiar fiber and structural com- 
position ; by its laws of growth ; by its fruit and by 
its particular chemistry. It is hardly possible to estimate 
the practical value of this organic identity. The stock- 
raiser, the farmer and the fruit-grower depend upon its 
truth. 

The identity of inorganic matter is its continuity of existence 
as the same numerical unity. 

Inorganic Matter and Its Identity. — We pred- 
icate a sort of identity of the stone upon which we tread, 
the shoe which we wear, and the old log-hut. It is only 
an incomplete identity, and the term identity is a loose, 
popular word in this application. The stone, the shoe 
and the old log-hut are, strictly speaking, losing particles 
of matter every passing moment. Inorganic matter 
need not preserve its size or shape or weight in order to 
remain identical ; but its crystal struduix or its chemical 
composition dare not be changed. If these are changed, 
then we no longer predicate identity of inorganic matter. 
The Bunker Hill Monument has identity of inorganic 
matter, because its existence has never been interrupted ; 
it has not become other in chemical composition nor in 
the crystal .structure of its granite. The lead-pencil in 



INTUITION. 255 

my hand has a sort of identity ; it is the lead pencil that I 
bought and used until it was a mere stump of a thing — 
the identical lead-pencil still. The o\&knife which I use 
is the same knife I have used for years. There may be a 
screw lost, a blade broken off or ground away ; but it is 
the knife of years. It has had a continued existence as a 
single unit. How many new parts may be added until it 
loses its identity is an old puzzle, and perhaps difficult to 
decide ; but as long as it is not other in continued exis- 
tence, as long as it has its own original chaj^acter, so long 
it has preserved a kind of identity. The nickel in my 
hand may pass through many purses ; but it will not, in 
its wanderings, become a dime or a dollar or another 
nickel. As long as it retains its original character it is 
the same nickel that began its wanderings from the Mint. 
Men go to Palestine, to Mount Calvary ; but unless 
even this particular place preserves its identity of position 
and relation, the pilgrim can not be sure that he has been to 
Mount Calvary. We know our rooms, our homes, our 
apparel, our neighborhood, our streams and rivers by a 
sort of identity that belongs to each of them. 

ORIGIN OF THE IDEA OF IDENTITY. 

The idea of identity is conceived by Intuition when Percep- 
tion and comparison present a suggestive occasion. 

Origin of the Idea of Identity. — We have the 
idea of identity. It is perhaps difficult to tell how we got 
the idea and still more difficult, or impossible, to tell when 
intuition gave us the first idea of identity. Identity sure- 
ly is not a material something, and yet it is a reality, a 
relation, a continued oneness, a something preserved from 
day to day, and in some cases through all eternities. We 



256 INTUITION. 

have an idea of this something ; and this idea can not be 
a product of perception, abstraction or generaHzation. 

Comparison is the occasion and intuition the cause of this 
idea. A concrete example will help us to understand 
something of the process : The little white girl taken 
captive by the Indians had heard her mother sing a cradle 
song, had often said a little prayer on her mother's knee. 
Years afterwards, when she was ransomed, she had 
changed a great deal, had grown to a kind of Indian 
woman-hood, had forgotten her mother's face, her mother's 
language. The child's mother is told that a number of 
pale-faced daughters have just been ransomed, and that 
her daughter may be among them. Will mother recog- 
nize her daughter ? She must see or hear her child to know 
her ! And when mother and daughter meet, they may 
not know by sight, for both have changed ; but the cra- 
dle-song is repeated, and the child knows her mother ; 
the scar on the daughter's arm is recognized, and the 
mother knows her daughter. What are the mental steps 
by which the mother identifies her child and the child, 
her mother ? The steps involved are about the same as 
the original experience by which the mind conceives its 
first notion of identity. Apart from such experience, 
there would have been intuition, but no intuitive birth 
of the idea of identity. The steps involved may be 
summed up as follows : 

1. Several cognitions. 

2. Several corresponding 2inA possible objects. 

3. Comparison of the several cognitions. 

4. The detection of identity or plurality. 

The several cognitions must refer to successive times, as 
yesterday and to-day. There must be the possibility of 
several objects that so much resemble each other as to 
raise the question whether perhaps there is 7iot identity 
but plurality. The several cognitions must be compared. 



INTUITION. 257 

This is a function of judgment. Judgment, or compari- 
son, thus detects that there is but one object, and that 
this object was known under several cognitions ; or it de- 
tects that there is a phirality of objects, and that there is 
no identity. Such an experience becomes a suggestion to 
be seized upon by intuition ; and intuition instantaneous- 
1}^ conceives the far-reaching idea of identity. Compari- 
son detected a particular identity ; but intuition gave 
birth to an idea far more comprehensive than any synthe- 
sis of judgments could account for. It is to be noticed 
here, that consciousness is also an occasion. Consciousness 
is a necessary condition for the activity of intuition as well 
as of perception and comparison. As an occasion, con- 
sciousness is the indispensable necessity. But we must 
not therefore imagine that consciousness is identity. 

I/Ocke^s View of Identity. — The great philosopher 
seems to think that consciousness is identity. This is 
contradictory to experience. If consciousness were iden- 
tity, the loss of consciousness would be the loss of identi- 
ty. We know this is not true, and we act accordingly. 
When our friend swoons away, or is in the delirium of 
fever, or insane, or in the coffin, we do not ask who is it ? 
Who was it ? We know that it was our friend and that 
this is our friend's bod}^ We know that the swooning 
friend is the identical friend of our acquaintance, and we 
bring him every help in our power. 

Consciousness as Belated to Personal Iden- 
tity. — The sane mind knows its own identity from day 
to day. Consciousness affirms that the present self is the 
same as the recalled and recognized self. An exercise of 
comparison is involved in this affirmation of consciousness. 
It should be noticed that consciousness alone can not af- 
firm personal identity. Memory and judgment are also 
involved. 



258 INTUITION. 

PRACTICAL APPLICATION. 
171 

Identity and our confidence in detecting identity constitute 
the bases of recognition and retribution. 

Mistaken Identity, — It is often difficult to decide 
whether, a man is the murderer or somebody that looks 
like him, or that seems to answer certain suspicious cir- 
cumstances. Every now and then the ivrong man is con- 
demned to death. In spite of caution and sincerity, earthly 
tribunals will not always be able to establish the proper 
proofs of identity. The bank-clerk feels this, and demands 
that some one known to himself and to the bearer of an 
order affirm the identity of this bearer. He will not cash 
an order until he is certain that he has detected identity. 

Identity the Basis of Confidence. — For a mo- 
ment, Rip Van Winkle could not tell whether he was 
himself or that other man against the tree. This would 
be our actual fate, were we not able at any moment to dis- 
tinguish ourselves from everybody else. We could not 
recognize our to- day -soli as our yesterday -s^\{ without 
this certainty. 

The Basis of Progress and Improvement , — 

We could not apply our products of yesterday, nor con- 
nect our yesterdays by means of to-days, if we were not 
able to identify ourselves to-day as a continuation from 
yesterday. Improvement and progress in the individual 
and in nations are only possible because of such con- 
tinuity of existence, be it the continuity of personal 
essence or the continuity of situation and relation. 

Recognition Based Upon Identity.— We recog- 
nize: our friend as the identical friend of our confidence. 
It is important that we should, or else our own firesides 
and our business concerns would be as unsafe as foes and 



INTUITION. 259 

deceivers could make them. We recognize our 07vn per- 
sonal property, our place in the community, etc., simply 
because we can identify ourselves and our relations. Or- 
ganic and inorganic matter are thus known to belong to 
us or to others. 

l^heology. — Recognition beyond the grave will de- 
pend upon the preservation of identity. If there is no 
continued personal essence in that beyond, we can never 
recognize our departed ones, our sainted loved ones. Not 
only does the recognition of a bod}' lying in a "morgue" 
or the recognition of a returning ' 'prodigal' ' depend upon 
the preservation of personal identity ; but the recognition 
of all heaven's hosts will depend upon this. Immortality 
and future retribution are thus a natural inference based 
upon the preservation of personal identity. Our mother 
will know us in that beyond and we shall know her. 

Retribution. — Upon earth, and in the day when 
heaven and earth shall pass away, in that great judgment 
day, men will not be rewarded with heaven or condemned 
into eternal torment as somebody else, but as preserved 
identical souls. Apart from this notion, the administra- 
tion of justice upon earth and in the future world could 
be nothing other than a farce. The human mind rebels 
against such a thought ; and we intuitively affirm that 
02ir identity will be preserved through all eternity. Apart 
from this certainty, justice can be but injustice, since it 
always punishes the other, the next man. 

Science and Identity. — The preservation of iden- 
tity insures the propagation of species and genera. The 
catastrophies of geological history are not contradictory, 
but affirmative of this notion. The species and genera of 
a past age are not metamorphosed or transferred into other 
forms. The deer never was a hyppopotamus, and the pine- 
tree was never a lepidodendron. If this is a fact, then the 



12 



26o INTUITION. 

origin of human races is a simple origin from a single 
human pair. This corresponds with revelation, and the 
Christian philosopher says, ' 'Amen. ' ' With a firm grasp 
of the idea of identity, no man in his right mind would 
predicate that a man was a continued, improved monkey. 
The preservation of identity is an irresistible contradic- 
tion of Darwinianism. 

D. CAUSE. 

A cause is the effective antecedent of a sequence. And every 
sequence has at least one cause and one occasion. 

Nature of Cause, — The whole universe is a contin- 
uous linking of antecedents and sequences. Phenomena 
follow phenomena ; event follows event in one connected 
succession, to be traced backward to the ultimate great 
First Cause — God. What is cause ? This is more easily 
understood than expressed, though causation as a univer- 
sal necessity in all phenomena is also, in itself, an almost 
unfathomable something. We have an idea of causation 
from the date of our first experience with phenomena. 
Perhaps it were better to be sure that we have a notion of 
the word phenomenon. A phenomenon is an appear- 
ance, or a somet/mig that appears, a. something that is 
cognized either by perception or reason, a fact in nature 
or a state of mind. Whenever we stand in the presence 
of anything that calls up the question, ^'what is this, and 
why is it here or why is it so and so," we stand in the 
presence of phenomena. Everything in our experience 
that demands a why, is a phenomenon. We thus speak 
of the phenomena of Nature, of society, of government, 
of history, of mind and of Creation. The word event is 
often used in about the same sense. Properly speaking, 



INTUITION. 261 

an event is an issue of history, and implies the activity of 
personal agents other than God as well as the agency of 
God. Phenomenon, as a scientific term, does not neces- 
sarily imply the direct agency of man or God. Phenome- 
na and events are regarded as effects, as sequences. In 
practical life and in philosophy we look upon every phe- 
nomenon as a SKQUKNCE or as an effect. This sequence 
may and does, in its turn, become the antecedent of some- 
thing else ; but for the moment we ask, ' 'what has caused 
this phenomenon" ? The words result, sequence, effect, 
and phenomenon, all imply a preceding something, an 
antecedent, an BFFKCTivK AnTKCEdknT, a cause. The 
terms are relative, and the one implies the other. We 
can not think of cause without thinking of effect ; nor 
can we think of effect without thinking of cause. 

Mere Antecedence Is Not Cause, — Our observa- 
tion, as remarked, presents to us phenomena linked to- 
gether as antecedents and sequences ; but we do not call 
every antecedent a cause. Improper induction does some- 
times make a mere antecedent a cause of some known 
effect. This is noticed in the illustration of the barometer 
and the storm. The falling of the mercury is an antecedent 
of to-morrow's storm ; but no one would rightly affirm 
that the falling of the mercury was the effective antecedent, 
the cause of to-morrow's storm. Night precedes day ; 
but no one afiirms that night is the cause of day. Win- 
ter precedes summer ; but no one supposes that winter is 
the cause of summer. The effort to discover particular 
causes has given rise to many hypotheses. Men have 
searched and searched for causes in every domain of mat- 
ter and mind ; but they never concluded that mere ante- 
cedence was the cause of disease, climate, orbits, growth. 

The Bffective Antecedent Is the Cause. — 
That but for which something would not occur, or occur 



262 INTUITION; 

in the manner in which it did occur, is what is meant by 
an effective antecedent. A cause, in the proper sense, is 
an agent or an agency. In this sense living and personal 
beings are proper causes. This is what is meant by ulti- 
mate cause. There is one great ultimate cause, the Crea- 
tor of all other causes ; but in a second sense, all men and 
even animals may be considered ultimate causes. In a 
less accurate sense, matter may also constitute a cause. 
Architecture and Invention are effects ; their causes are 
the architect, the designer, the inventor. Growth and 
weight are effects not directly to be traced to inind and 
man ; the germ and gravitation are the causes of growth 
and weight. The germ and gravitation are agencies, ef- 
fective antecedents. 

Proximity of Cause and Occasion. — Cause is 
always accompanied by an occasion. There may be 
several occasions, several necessary conditions for the ac- 
tivity of a cause. So necesssary is an occasion for the ac- 
tivity of a cause, that some philosophers have thought at 
least two causes necessary for every effect. In this sense 
an occasion is a kind of cause, a sort of secondary cause ; 
but the word occasion is preferred to the word cause as 
thus used. Let us analyze a concrete example of cause 
and occasion. The hammer falls upon a pane of glass ; 
the glass breaks. In this example the effect is broken 
glass; the cause is the falling hammer; the occasion is the 
brittle7iess of glass. What is the relation of a cause to its 
occasion ? Had the gla.ss been like iron, it would not 
have broken. Brittleness was thus a necessary condition 
of the glass, in order that the falling hammer might pro- 
duce the given result ; but brittleness in itself is not as 
necessary as the falling hammer. Brittleness in the glass 
did not break it before the hammer struck it. A thing 
can be brittle and yet last years and years. It is only 
when the hammer falls that the glass breaks. 



INTUITION. 263 

The falling hammer is the effective agency ; brittleness 
is the occasion. 

Causes are spoken of as efficient, material, formal and final ; 
illustrated by the sculptor, the marble, the plan, the purpose. 

Pormer Classification Analyzed, — Aristotle thus 
classifies causes. We still speak of efficient and final 
causes ; but the efficient cause is the only one properly 
called a cause. The formation of the word efficient indi- 
cates a working-out, a cause that works out a certain re- 
sult. The efficient cause is properly a personal agency, 
though, as remarked, we use the term efficient cause when 
we speak of a ^(?r;^, gravitation, change of temperature, 
precipice, mistake, etc. The illustration of Aristotle 
makes clear the distinctions indicated in the proposition. 
The statue was an effect. Its efficient cause was the sculp- 
tor ; the material cause was the marble ; the formal cause 
was the sculptor's plan ; and the yi?ial cause was the 
sculptor' sp2crpose. When we analyze this classification we 
notice that the efficient cause was the onlj/ cause ; that the 
formal and final cause were products of this efficient mind 
and therefore simple effects. We notice further that the 
marble was the necessary occasion. Of course the statue 
would not have been made without a plan or a purpose, 
but as soon as we have a sculptor we imply a plan and a 
purpose. We thus see that the sculptor is that but for 
ivhich there would have been no statue. Why ? Because 
then there would have been no plan and no purpose to 
work upon the marble. In an other sense the plan and 
the purpose are both occasions ; for they indicate necessary 
conditions of a man whom we call the sculptor. I^et us 
now apply these distinctions to the creation of the uni- 



264 INTUITION. 

verse. Creation is an effect, a phenomenon, a vast link- 
ing of phenomena. We do not see the effective antece- 
dent, the efficient cause ; but we see design and plan in 
creation, and both imply a designer, 2i planner, an efficient 
cause. We might here ask for an occasion of creation. 
Our answer would be, "God's purpose implies the occa- 
sion." What is this occasion? It is God's nature of 
mind. The three-fold nature of mind, as we have learned, 
is intellect, feeling, and will. God is thus not only a wise 
and a powerful God, but a loving God. As such his na- 
ture demands reciprocal love. Hence, he created the 
world and its creatures, so that they might love Him and 
be themselves also loved, happy. 

ORIGIN OF THE NOTION OF CAUSE, 

174 

The idea of cause is conceived by Intuition when Perception 
presents the suggestion of vicinity. 

Vicinity and Its Suggestion, — The word vicini- 
ty indicates nearness, association, contiguity. As already 
noticed, our sense- environments as well as the succession 
of events or the successive states of conscious mind are all 
a continued linking of antecedence and subsequence. 
Something antecedent and something subsequent are thus 
always in vicinity. This vicinity may be a contiguous 
association, as in the case of a candle -flame and melting 
wax ; or it may be somewhat distant, as in the case of the 
watch and its maker, or Creation and the Creator. In 
either case the vicinity of antecedence and subsequence can 
be found. Our first discovery of vicinity is a discovery 
through perception and induction, or through conscious- 
ness and immediate inference. From this first discovery 
of vicinity. Intuition catches the suggestion of 7iecessary 



INTUITION. 265 

antecedence. Thus the idea of cause is born. The pri- 
mary idea of cause is born so instantaneously on the occa- 
sion of our first discovery of vicinity, that the idea seems 
to precede the later conclusions of induction. Indeed, 
the idea of cause is one of the earliest in the human mind. 
The child's nourishment is perhaps a first occasion that 
suggests the idea. The infant mind discovers the vicinity 
of mother and satisfied hunger, and thus comes to act upon 
the impjilsc or belief that mother is the cause of nourish- 
ment. 

Mental Vicinity. — The child-mind puts forth a vo- 
lition, and notices an internal or external sequence. The 
association or vicinity of the volition and the sequence is 
revealed in consciousness or in conscious perception. 
Consciousness and perception are thus presenting to the 
mind a suggestion ; this suggestion is caught by intui- 
tion, and thus is born the idea of cause. The mind from 
that moment knows that volitions are causes and that se- 
quences are effects. This can be illustrated by the exper- 
ience of the little child when it reaches out its tiny hand 
for a plaything, or bids mother bring down the coveted 
moon. The child feels that his volition may effect his 
purpose. The child touches the red-hot stove and screams 
with pain. He will not likely touch the red-hot stove 
again as long as he remembers the suggestive vicinity of 
the antecedent red-hot stove and the subsequent aching 
finsfer. 



'O' 



UNIVERSAL CAUSATION, 
175' 

The notion of universal causation is conceived by Intuition as 
the inevitable law of intelligent interpretation. 

Universal Causation, — The notion of universal 
causation is a much wider and much earlier concept than 



266 INTUITION. 

thos2 of generalization and induction. lyong before we 
have experienced every effect, long before our induction 
could be based upon universal vicinity, the mind has 
stated to itself this primary truth, "Every effect has a 
cause." Thus the idea of cause has early become a truth, 
a fundamental laiu of belief This notion of cause could 
not originate from human induction ; for human induc- 
tion has the stamp of contingency and custom. We cer- 
tainly have no right to put that which is based upon con- 
tingent premises into the category of the necessary and 
universal ; but such a truth is the notion of universal cau- 
sation. 

An Inevitable J^aw, — We can not get rid of this 
notion, though we tr}^ to do so. Whenever the sceptic 
tries to rid himself of this instinctive belief, he is foiled by 
contradictory confessions in his daily conduct. He may 
not admit that Creation had an intelligent Creator, but 
he must admit that failure or success in his business had 
some cause, he must admit that the clock on the mantel or 
the watch in his pocket had a maker, he must admit grad- 
ually that all he has ever known as phenomena had a cause. 
The physicist has searched for ages to find an instance 
where phenomenon is not caused ; but he has given it up. 
The infidel, by writing and orating confesses his belief 
in cause. If this is not true, why does he write or 
speak ? Does he not thus try to present the cause of his 
unbelief, and does he not thus confess his belief that his 
words may be the cause of winning others to his un- faith ? 
The law of causation is thus an inevitable law. It is self- 
evident to every mind. It is a simple product of intuition ; 
it is a necessary and universal truth. The construction 
of all the sciences and philosophies is based upon this 
fundamental belief. The whole universe, the stars and 
starlets, the fishes in the brook, animate and inanimate 
nature utter the same truth. 



INTUITION. 267 

PRACTICAL APPLICATION. 
176. 

Material and historical phenomena, creation and life beyond, 
are effects of universal causation. 

ScientiRc Products of Search after Causes, 

— Search for the causes of orbits, formation, growth, ac- 
tivity, etc., has led men to construct the physical sciences. 
Astronomy, Geology, Botany, Chemistry and Natural 
Philosophy, are the products of this search ; and there 
are many other sciences thus produced. 

Historical Phenomena. — History with its battles, 
its nations, its progress, its origin of institutions and their 
decay, its laws and its agents, is a wide domain for uni- 
versal causation. We can not interpret the phenomena 
of histor}" apart from the idea and tru^/i of causation. 
This is confessed by the construction of such sciences as 
the philosoph}^ of history, sociology, political economy, 
etc. Success or failure in business, fortune or misfortune 
in societ3% home life and personal life, are phenomena that 
must be interpreted upon the basis of universal causation. 
When we are intelligent and reasonable enough to confess 
this truth, we shall be ready to look up with sublime rev- 
erence to God our First Great Cause. 

E. THE AESTHETIC. 

Classification. — The Aesthetic includes the Beau- 
tiful, the Sublime, and the Ludicrous. The last in- 
cludes JVtf and Humor. The distinctions upon which 
this classification is based will appear as we proceed with 
the separate investigations. The term Bca^ttifid is usual- 
ly made to cover the entire field of the Aesthetic ; but 
such a use of the term is arbitrar}' and is apt to overlook 
12* 



268 INTUITION. 

essential characteristics. The effects of the Beautiful, the 
Sublime and the lyudicrous upon our mind, are confessed- 
ly distinct ; and, for this reason it is proper to expect dis- 
tinctions in the causes that produce such effects. The 
Beautiful is zvinsome, restful ; the Sublime is conqueri?ig, 
over- awing ; the lyudicrous is catching and surprisiiig. 
The Beautiful, the Sublime and the lyUdicrous are the 
fundamental notions of the science of Ai:sthktics. While 
it is not our wish or mission to enter at length into the 
discussion of the Aesthetic, it is the mission of Psychol- 
ogy to investigate the nature of the Aesthetic as objective 
somethings ; the origin of the ideas of the Aesthetic ; the 
perception of the Aesthetic, the estimation of the Aes- 
thetic, or Taste, and Practical Applications. 

the: be:autiful. 

The nature of the beautiful is explained in several theories 
known as subjective, objective and spiritual theories. 

Nature of the Beautiful, — The beautiful in na- 
ture and art, is a most interesting subject ; and, at the 
same time, it is difficult to state what the elements of the 
beautiful are, or whether there is an only common pro- 
perty that constitutes the real essence of the beautiful. 
The effort to discover the various elements of the beauti- 
ful, its manifestations and perhaps its real and simple es- 
sence, has taxed the minds of the best thinkers to the 
utmost. Men have almost come to the conclusion that 
they can not satisfactorily define the beautiful. Its coy- 
ness and subtlety, its manifold manifestations in nature 
and art, its expressive capacities and its occurrence in 
matter and mind, make it extremely difficult to discover 



INTUITION. ■ 269 

a determinative element, a simple essence in all forms or- 
ganic and inorganic, material and spiritual. This situa- 
tion has given origin to the three theories above indi- 
cated. The SUBJKCTIVK THEORIES all agree in affirming 
that the beautiful has no objective existence apart from 
a particular contact with mind. The objective theo- 
ries all try to find the essence of the beautiful in some 
objective quality, such as utility. The spirituai, theory 
recognizes the beautiful as a spiritual essence manifested 
through material forms. We shall notice these theories 
in detail, prefacing our discussion with the remark that 
the subjective and objective theories either fail altogether 
when applied to concrete illustrations or else involve so 
many exceptions that all such theories must be put down 
as unsatisfactory. That the objective theories, when 
summed up do enumerate elements that aid the peixeption 
of the beautiful and that heighten the effect upon the ob- 
server, we can not dispute ; but we are ready to assert 
that all these theories do injustice to Reason, and unjust- 
ly or blindly deny the voice of God as it is tuned in 
nature's varied forms. We can hardly doubt that God 
speaks to us in visible forms, that he reveals himself in 
his nature through the gem of the ocean, the wild-rose 
of the hill -side, the stately palm, the weeping willow, 
the storm and cataract, the singing birds, the whispers of 
the breezes and the sighing of the wind. And if this be 
true, the spiritual theory of the beautiful is more expres- 
sive, more lofty, more God-like. 

FOUR SUBJECTIVE THEORIES CRITICISED. 

ITS. 

The principal subjective theories are those of: i. Emotion, 
2. Association. 3. Reflection. 4. Observation. 



270 INTUITION. 

Subjective Theories. — We must regard these theo- 
ries as mere hypotheses until we shall have tested them 
by concrete applications. It is difficult to see how the sub- 
jective theories ever gained credence among intelligent 
people. We shall find that all such theories violate com- 
mon sense and that they are most superficial in their con- 
clusions. The subjective theories are no longer held by 
writers on Aesthetics ; but we shall recall them for the 
sake of logical discipline. The test of such theories will 
put us upon our guard in testing other hypotheses. The 
examination of the subjective theories is also valuable, 
since these hypotheses led to the proper theory. The 
proper theory may not be a full statement of the nature of 
the Beautiful ; but it is in the line of a verified truth. 
This proper theory, as was remarked, is the spiritual the- 
ory. We shall see that the refutation of the subjective 
and objective theories unavoidably leads to the adoption of 
the spiritual theory. 

The ^motion Theory. — The emotion theory claims 
that the beautiful is not an objective cause, but a subjec- 
tive effect. This effect is an emotion, and to this emotion 
the term Beautiful is applied. The theory allows that 
there may be some objective quality in nature and in art 
that eaitses certain things to produce this beautiful emo- 
tion. 

ReflltRtion. — Writers thus speak of the e?notio?i of t/ie 
beautiful as if the}^ could know nothing beyond this emo- 
tion. The theory evidently swallows the difficulty. If 
the emotion is what is meant b}^ the beautiful, why should 
language have formed and kept the word admiration '^ If 
the emotion is what is meant when we speak of the beau- 
tiful, what name shall we give to that <2^/;/ ///<?«' objective 
qualit}' which causes the emotion ? We can find no name 
for such cause unless we admit that this cause is the beau- 
tiftl. This is also common-sense experience. When we 



INTUITION. 271 

look at a beautiful, rippling streamlet, we surely do not 
mean that our emotion is beautiful, but that the rippling 
sh^eavi is beautiful. We surely can not have deceived our- 
selves so much as to imagine that the paintings and statues 
of the masters are not beautiful in an objective sense, or 
that they are unnamed causes of a named effect and that 
effect a beaictiful emotion ! 

The Association Theory. — The association theo- 
ry claims that things become beautiful by association with 
mind, or that we call certain things beautiful because they 
become symbols of associated emotions. 

Refutation, — The theory implies too much ; since we 
must admit that many things which God has made are 
beautiful even when no human mind has been associated 
with it so as to make the thing a S3anbol. The associa- 
tion is of course the occasion of our cognition of the beauti- 
ful ; but avSSociation surely does not cause the child to call 
the vast expanse of ocean, or the glittering gem of first ex- 
perience beautiful. We call many things beautiful on 
first sight ; and this we could not do, if nothing was beau- 
tiful but that which had become the symbol of an associ- 
ated emotion. When we were children, we did not call the 
lily ugly and the toad beautiful ; nor do we call the toad 
beautiful now and the lily ugly. We can not recall a 
part of childhood when we made such a mistake ; but if 
it was not a mistake, then surely association of emotion did 
not make the lily beautiful. The truth of the matter is 
that the beauty of the lily was objective, a visible word of 
God to the child, and the child intuitively recognized this 
visible voice of God. 

The Reflection Theory, — The reflection theory 
claims that we call that beautiful which reflects our own 
mental beauty. A thing is beautiful in proportion to its 
reflection of mental beauty. In case any mind requires 
Beethoven's symphonies to reflect its mental beauty, we 



272 INTUITION. 

call such symphonies beautiful. A thing is beautiful in 
proportion to its reflective mission. 

Refutation, — If the objective painting, or statue, or 
flower, has such power to reflect, why not call this objective 
quality the beautiful ? We see thus that the reflection 
theory condemns itself by admitting an objective caiise of 
reflection. The theory is also a logical contradiction ; for, 
if the Venus de Medici reflects the mental beauty of the 
sculptor and of some observers, and also the mental beau- 
ty of a savage, then surely the statue is far less beautiful 
when the savage looks upon the statue. This is the same 
as saying (2 -j- 2) = 4 under one man's observation, but 
(2 -(- 2) = 3 under another man's observation. We must 
here caution the student to distinguish between the effects 
of such statue-beauty on the mind of the cultured and the 
uncultured man. These effects do vary ; but the intrinsic 
beauty of the statue does not vary under different obser- 
vations. If the statue is symbolic of a certain amount of 
mental beauty, it should be symbolic of so much beauty 
to every observer. This is not the case, as we have just 
noticed in the various effects produced upon men of differ- 
ent culture. The reflection theory also violates com- 
mon sense, and makes the world a combination falsehood, 
an unconscious testimony to a falsehood ; for when we gaze 
upon the wild rose, or listen in rapture to the harmonies 
of earth and heaven, we surely cannot mean to say that 
such a wild- rose or heavenly harmony is a simple reflection 
of our own mental beauty. Oh, how beautiful ! What 
•is beautiful ? The laughing gem in the melting sunlight 
or the mind that looks upon it ? Surely the gem is beau- 
tiful even if we never had any beauty of fiiind to be re- 
flected ! And why does this gem seem beautiful to all 
eyes? Why does child and man alike exclaim, "It is 
beautiful" ? Surely the reflection theory cannot explain 
this. The truth of the matter is that the g-em is a visible 



INTUITION. 273 

word of God which child and man alike intuitively under- 
stand. The child may not grasp so much of this written 
word as the man, but it grasps enough to say, "It is beau- 
tiful". The gem, according to the reflection theory, must 
thus be the symbol of all degrees of mental beauty. It 
must be beautiful, more beautiful and most beautiful at 
the same moment ! Can this be ? Even if, as remarked, 
objects were the expressive symbols reflecting mental beau- 
ty, this very reflective capacity is not subjective but objec- 
tive. To this objective something we prefer to give the 
name Beautiful. 

l^he Observation Theory. — The observation the- 
ory claims that an object is not beautiful unless observed. 
According to this theory there must always be the contact 
or friction of the objective and the subjective, a friction 
of the flower and of the mind of the observer. This fric- 
tion makes the object beautiful ! Just as the flint is not 
the sole cause of a vSpark, but must be brought into con- 
tact with steel, before the spark is produced, so the harmo- 
ny of song is not the sole cause of my emotion which I 
call the beautiful ; the emotion is on a parallel with the 
spark in its two- fold origin. Such is the observation the- 
ory. It makes the beautiful a subjective effect and gives 
no name to the cause, \hQ flint, the flower. 

Refutation, — It gives the name beautiful to the effect 
rather than to the cause. But the existence of this cause 
can not be denied ; and all the friction in the world would 
not make some things beautiful. Observation is only the 
occasion of the cognition of the beautiful. There are many 
beautiful things which the human eye has never seen. 
Moreover, this theory would make the rub3'-throated hum- 
ming bird beautiful and not beautiful at the same moment. 
This is a logical fallacy. If the humming bird is beauti- 
ful at all, it is beautiful whether observed or not observ^ed. 



274 INTUITION. 

It is thus on a parallel with vibration. There may be vi- 
bration, and yet no ear perceive it. 

FOUR OBJECTIVE THEORIES CRITICISED. 

179' 

The principal objective theories are those of: i. Novelty. 2. 
Utility. 3. Order and Proportion. 4, Unity and Variety. 

Objective Theories. — All objective theories seek to 
discover the element or elements that constitute a recog- 
nized objective essence of the Beautiful. They are a 
nearer approach to the proper theory and lead directly to 
the spiritual theory. Bach of these theories finds an ob- 
jective quality that is closely connected with the perception 
of the beautiful, or that heightens the effect of perceived 
beauty ; but we shall see that no one of them has named 
the real objective essence of the beautiful. We shall find, 
however, that all of them together have enumerated visi- 
ble mediums through which and in which the essence of the 
beautiful appeals to human minds. Color, form, motion, 
sound, etc., through their order and proportion, and 
through their unity and variety, thus become sensible me- 
diums for the interpretation of beautiful things around us. 
There is no doubt but that God has clothed his thoughts 
and his designs, etc., in the flower of the field, the gazelle 
of the plain, the Palm of the Orient, the pearls of India 
and Brazil. Bach of these thus becomes a visible mes- 
sage from Heaven. 

The Novelty Theory. — This theory finds the es- 
sence of the beautiful in novelty. That which is novel 
is beautiful ! It is difficult to see how such a superficial 
hypothesis could stand the test of any intelligent mind ; 
but it is easy to detect the reason for such hypothesis. 

Tested. — It follows in the wake of subjective theories. 
It presumes that the emotion awakened by certain quali- 



INTUITION. 275 

ties is the beautiful. In this case, novelty has something 
to do with the emotion ; it heightens this effect, this emo- 
tion caused b}^ certain qualities in objects, etc. But novel- 
ty is surely not the essence of the beautiful. If it were, 
then the mOvSt novel thing ought to be the most beautiful 
thing ; and that which is no longer novel, should no long- 
er be beautiful. Neither of these conclusions corresponds 
with common sense or with our common conduct. The 
most novel thing is not alwa3's, indeed, not visually the 
most beautiful. If it were, then the snout of a pig or the 
claws of a hawk when first seen should be more beautiful 
than the ornament upon our parlor mantel, or the grand 
old paintings and statues of the masters. 

In the second place, a beautiful thing does not lose its 
beauty just because it loses its novelty. The white robed 
lily, the wonderful shells of the deep blue sea, and the 
soft, sweet zephyrs of spring, are surely beautiful when- 
ever they come, though they come year in and year out. 
Niagara Falls may cause more ecstasy of emotion when 
we first behold the sun-touched arch of water>^ spray, or 
watch the jeweled bounding of the silver}^ sheet as it leaps 
that grand old precipice ; but should we turn with a sneer 
on our lips and say to a native of Niagara community, 
"Your Falls are nothing to brag of; there's no beauty in 
them, that I can see", the native would swell with anger 
and say, "I've lived here from my childhood da3\s, and 
that Falls is beautiful to me now as then, though it may 
not raise my feelings to the same pitch as it does that of 
a tourist who comes to us once in his lifetime". 

What an awful theory this would be for the admirer of 
the beautiful in nature and art ! Why .should men pay 
thousands of dollars for that which loses its beauty when 
it has lost its novelty ? This is surely not a consoling- 
theory to the bride when she enters her husband's home. 
The theory also contradicts itself, because a beautiful har- 



276 INTUITION. 

mony, according to thivS theory, must at the same moment, 
be both beautiful and not beautiful. For example, the 
harmonies of the master musicians must at the same mo- 
ment be beautiful to him to whom such harmonies are 
novel, and not beautiful to him who. has heard them a 
score of times. This conclusion is not the conclusion 
upon which the conduct of musicians is based. 

The Utility Theory.— The utility theory finds the 
essence of the beautiful in utility. Whatever is beauti- 
ful is so because of some direct or indirect utility. 

Tested. — This theory, like the Novelty theory, is a 
superficial one. From it we might logically conclude that 
the most useful thing ought to be the most beautiful 
thing, and that nothing is beautiful unless it is useful. 
The bread we eat is far more useful to us than the sunset, 
but we do not also call it more beautiful. The snout of a 
pig is more useful than the apple blossoms in our orchards, 
but we do not call it more beautiful. 

In the second place, some, things are very beautiful 
though not useful at all. We can not make any use of 
the rainbow or the halo round the moon, or the odors of 
sweet spring flowers ; and yet we call these beautiful. It 
may be said that all beautiful things are useful. This 
is true as a matter of aesthetic culture. We do wish to 
be touched by all beautiful sights and sounds, etc. , so that 
we may be made more beautiful ourselves ; but this is a 
secondary consideration. We do not think of this in that 
moment when we say, ''How beautiful." The little child 
calls things beautiful long before he can calculate the 
value of beautiful things. In many cases, when the use- 
fulnsss of any thing is made an object of thought, we lose 
sight of its beauty. We buy beautiful ribbons and bric- 
a-brac not because we think they are useful, but because 
we think they are beautiful. And to show that we buy 
them becaUvSe they are beautiful, we often buy the very 



INTUITION. 277 

frailest and most delicate ornament for our mantels. A 
thing may be pleasing to us because it is useful ; but we 
certainly do distinguish between the pleasure caused in 
us by the use of a truck-wagon and the observation of a 
beautiful face. We may never be able to own a certain 
beautiful something, but we still call it beautiful. 

The Order and Proportion Theory. — This is 
only another form of the utility theory. Order and pro- 
portion have in view the design of that which has order 
and proportion. Arrangement according to order ma}^ be 
neat and pleasing ; but order is not the thing that pleases. 
It is the things arranged in order that make one arrange- 
ment more beautiful than another. Proportion is a sym- 
metry of arrangement. Symmetry may be a mechanical 
7nediu7n through which the soul of beautiful things looks ; 
but the mere symmetry is not the essence of the beautiful. 
If this were so, then every thing that has order and pro- 
portion should be more beautiful than that which has not 
order and proportion. This is not true in actual experi- 
ence. The artist often avoids strict order and proportion 
in order to avoid stiffness and inflexibility. It is, how- 
ever, true that most beautiful things have order and pro- 
portion, and as such, this order a?id proportion, whether 
it be that of color, form, motion, sound, face or character, 
becomes a medium by which we are able to interpret the 
language of God as written in the gem and in the violet. 

The Unity and Variety Theory, — This theory 
comes quite close to the proper theory. It names elements 
in the presence of ivhich the beautiful touches us. Unity 
and variety are represented by the waving line of Ho- 
garth. This theory claims that things are beautiful when 
they have both unity and variety. By unity is meant a 
central thought or idea conveyed through-out. By variety 
is meant a deviation from such a central idea in order to 
relieve from monotony. 



278 INTUITION. 

Xested, — While unity and variety are hardly ever ab- 
sent from what we call beautiful, there are many things 
which we call beautiful that lack either unity or variety. 
The blue expanse of heaven is called beautiful ; but there 
is no variety. The gem and the dew-drop lack variety, 
but we call them beautiful. The sunset lacks all unity, 
but we call it beautiful. The pyrotechnic displays are 
not noted for their unity, and yet we call them beautiful. 
But it is true that in most beautiful things the blending 
of unity and variety expresses the beautiful. A face that 
lacks this blending is not beautiful. A picture or a poem 
or a symphony is clothed in this blending. We therefore 
notice its intimate relation to the beautiful. 

THE SPIRITUAL THEORY OF THE BEAU- 
TIFUL. 

180, 

The Beautiful is a subtle and immaterial essence that de- 
lights the soul by means of material and expressive sense-me- 
diums. 

Nature and Manifestation of the Beautiful. 

— The spiritual theory recognizes the voice of God in all 
things beautiful. The gem, the flower, the tree, the bird 
and man, are a visible voice from the Creator to his crea- 
ture ; and the creature intuitively knows this voice, 
though he may not fiilly interpret it without practice in 
interpretation. The child knows that the dew-drop is a 
beautiful word ; but it is the child grown to maturity that 
fully grasps the meaning of that word. The theory fully 
accounts for all beautiful things and has a strong analogy 
to the constitution of man. Man is a body and a spirit ; 
the spirit looks out through the body. We call the eye 
the window of the soul. So are beautiful things in nature 
the visible manifestations of a soul, and this is the beauti- 



INTUITION. 279 

ful. Color, form, and motion thus become the visible 
words of the beautiful. 

EXPRESSIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

We might call the spiritual theory, the expression 
theory, since it explains all visible manifestations as ex- 
pressions of some beautiful soul — the idea within. The 
theory may not be a full statement of what the nature of 
the beautiful is ; we may not be able satisfactorily to de- 
fine the beautiful ; but the definition of the spiritual theory 
states the truth as far as it goes. The coyness and ex- 
quisite subtlety of beauty in its invisible essence, make it 
almost impossible to define the beautiful quite accurately. 
I^et us test the theory by conscious experience. 

The Beautiful Expressed by Inorganic 
J^ormSy etc, — The spiritual theory looks upon the bril- 
liant PEARL as the expression of an invisible essence. 
This invisible essence is an idea put into the pearl by God 
himself. The qualities of the diamond, its crystal form, 
its reflective power thus express an idea. The child may 
not grasp the full meaning, but knows that something 
beaiitifid has touched him through the medium of this 
visible, material form, the diamond. 

The Beautiful as E)xpressed by Organic 
Porms, etc. — The vegetable world is a vast domain of 
beautiful ideas expressed in shrub and flower, tree and 
fern. The plant world is a book written in tree-ivords, 
rose-words^ lily-zvords, elm-ivords, fern-zvords, etc. Kvery 
beautiful plant is a visible expres.sion, a sensible manifes- 
tation, a sense-medium of something beautiful. The 
mind catches this beautiful something through the medi- 
um of color, form, motion, harmony, etc. The drooping 
Elm, the white- robed Lily, the cheerful Rose, the grace- 
ful Fern, and every form of shrub or tree, are but the 



28o INTUITION. 

voice of God, teaching us his wisdom, love and good- 
ness. 

The Beautiful as Expressed by Animal 
F'ormSy etc, — The animal world is a moving combina- 
tion of order and proportion, of unity and variety, that 
expresses God's wisdom, love and goodness. We say that 
the gazelle, the horse, the butter- fly, the Oriole, the I^ark, 
are beautiful. Kach of these bears a message from the 
invisible world, — a message of grace, or intelligence, or 
innocence, or affection, or song. Child and man recog- 
nize the touch of the beautiful in the presence of such vis- 
ible manifesting mediums. 

The Beautiful in Human Beings, — Far higher 
and far more complex is the language of the human face 
and form. Complexion, features, movement, order and 
proportion, unity and variety, — all these become mediums 
for the manifestation of an invisible and beautiful soul 
created in the image of God, The face may be blurred 
with sin or deformed by some mysterious agency ; but 
when not thus blurred or deformed, the human face ex- 
presses a God- like beauty. Our first parents must have 
been as beautiful as Apollo and Venus — yes, far more 
beautiful than these ! Their face and form were sense- 
manifestations of a beautiful soul within, the image of 
their maker. But human beauty is no longer the highest 
ideal type. The visible medium has been bedaubed with 
sin, just as we might bedaub a beautiful painting of the 
masters, just as we might bedaub the statue of Apollo, 
just as we might mingle discords in the harmony of an- 
gels or the harmony of human choruses. We shall now 
notice how art endeavors to express higher ideals of the 
Beautiful in History. 

The Beautiful in Art, — The spiritual theory does 
not suppose that the statue, or the painting, or the archi- 
tecture, or the symphony, or the oratory, has a 7ra/ soul- 



INTUITION. 281 

essence in order to be beautiful, but that some soul has 
expressed, through these mediums of Art, an idea, an 
ideal. Art professes to create fofms, not ideas. These 
forms are made to suggest the highest ideals of the beau- 
tiful ; and as expressive mediums they are beautiful. 

THE SUBLIME. 

181. 

The Sublime is an approach to the infinite and is expressed 
through sensible mediums. 

Nature of the Sublime, — We might refer to sub- 
jective and objective theories ; but prefer to take up the 
expression theory. We can not satisfactorily define the 
sublime, but we can detect the elements, or conditions, 
in the presence of which we are touched by the Sublime. 
These elements or conditions are : i. Vastness. 2. Power. 
3. Awfulness. 4. Obscurity. 5. Volume of Sound. 6. 
Moral Courage. In the presence of these elements or sen- 
sible mediums, we are touched by the Subi^imk. The 
sublime does not consist of any of these elements or of 
their combined presence ; but they separately and in union 
suggest, express, 7na7iifest, an approach to the infinite. 
We feel in such a presence the contrast of the finite over 
against the infinite ; we can no longer comprehend or 
understand the infinite, the sublime ; there is a pre-domi- 
nance of the super- sensible upon us, and we feel weak, 
finite, awed, subdued. The vast expanse of ocean ex- 
presses the infinite wisdom and power of the Creator of 
the Sublime ; the visible power manifested in an earth- 
quake suggests that invisible, infinite power upon the 
spiritual throne ; the roaring cataract, the rumbling mur- 
mur of a sub-terranean river, the rolling thunder peals, 
the dark and lonely forest, the courageous fireman and 



282 INTUITION. 

our Saviour upon Mount Calvary or in dark Gethsemane, 
are expressive of the Sublime. Oratory, poetry, Art and 
Nature, manifest in sensible mediums an approach to the 
infinite that makes us tremble with admiring awe and 
with a conscious sense of our littleness. 

THE LUDICROUS. 
182. 

Wit or humor is an aesthetic essence expressed by juxtaposi- 
tion of incongruous ideas. Both wit and humor touch our sense 
of laughter. 

Nature of the I/iidicroiis, — The ludicrous takes 
several forms, wit and humor. The former is not as kind- 
ly as the latter. Both are, in their essential nature, 
rather beautiful than sublime. The ludicrous whether in 
the form of wit or humor, is not found in Nature as such. 
It is a product of the mind. The pun or the humorous 
story appeal to our aesthetic nature. Almost all men 
love the ludicrous. The child and the man are easily 
touched by wit or humor. In its essence the ludicrous is 
a subtle something, an invisible touch through the in- 
congruous juxtaposition of ideas or facts, hicongriiity 
seems to be the suggestive, the expressive medium of the 
ludicrous. The Broadway dude reduced to a horizontal 
position by the innocent banana peel, is an incongruous 
situation that wakes up aesthetic appreciation in almost 
every breast. Robert Burdette's humorous talks touch 
us in our aesthetic nature. 

1S3. 

Intuition can conceive the aesthetic ideas when sense-percep- 
tion presents concrete instances as the suggestive occasion. 

Origin of Aesthetic Ideas. — The aesthetic ideas 
are conceived in early mental activity. We can not tell 



INTUITION. 283 

when these ideas came to us. Our memory does not 
clearly recall such sub- conscious activity ; and we can not 
recall any time in our life when we had not the idea of the 
aesthetic. 

Sense-Suggestions. — A child is attracted by beautiful 
toys, by beautiful pictures, by beautiful songs and beauti- 
ful faces. First perceptions of such concrete instances awak- 
ened an emotion. The child gazes with wild wonder and 
admiration upon the beautiful and sublime in Nature and 
Art ; the little heart swells with delight when for the first 
time it gazes upon a beautiful wild-rose, or a fluttering 
butterfly, or a gray-squirrel, or the peacock. In these 
first sense-perceptions, was awakened something more 
than a mere emotion. Intuition, too, had caught an idea. 
This idea may not be recognized by the child, may not be 
intellectuall}^ used as a standard for comparison, but it 
was conceived so immediately in the proper occasion that 
it became a sub-conscious mental product. 

Development of Taste, — As the child progresses 
to maturity, this idea is unfolded, developed, definitely 
adopted as a reliable standard of comparison whenever the 
beautiful or the sublime is presented in the concrete. 
The idea which is thus becoming a successively more ac- 
curate standard, remains the intuitive standard in the cul- 
tivated artist. The child may not yet discriminate or 
judge in an infallible way, may not ask just w/iat is ex- 
pressed by the wild-rose, the wild waves, the delicate cor- 
ona of the moon, the statue of Michael Angelo or the har- 
monies of Bach ; but as maturity of mind comes on apace, 
the emotions in the presence of concrete beauty, sublimi- 
ty, or wit and humor, become occasions for the activity of 
judgment. It is thus that Taste is awakened in the mind. 



13 



284 INTUITIO N . 

184. 

Taste is judgment with reference to the aesthetic. By it we 
compare the beautiful and the sublime products of Nature and 
Art with our intuitive standard. 

Nature of Taste, — Taste is not a new faculty ; but 
it \^ judgment with reference to the aesthetic. It is the 
discriminating power applied to a distinct class of objects, 
etc. Taste is not an emotion ; but emotion may be the 
occasion for the activity of Taste. Emotion precedes and 
accompanies taste, and, as such, is distinct from the intel- 
lectual activity of taste. Kmotion may even interfere 
with the accurate exercise of taste. The art critic does 
not express his judgment as to a product of Art until he 
is sure his taste has not been over-influenced by emotion. 
Taste is a direct comparison — a comparison of two 
things with each other — and one of these two things is the 
intuitive idea which has become our standard ; but the 
other thing is a flower, a shrub, a statue, a musical com- 
position, a demonstration in Geometry, a literary produc- 
tion, a rippling streamlet or a softly gleaming starlet, etc. 

Good Taste and Poor Taste, — We speak of a man 
as having taste or no taste, meaning that he is a man of 
good taste or of poor taste. The child may have poor taste, 
and strong emotions. The art critic has good taste, and 
often much less feeling, much less emotion than the child. 
Good taste is the result of mature age and culture as well 
as of native difference or other influences. The mature 
mind naturally unfolds in every department through the 
influence of environments. The intuitive idea thus be- 
comes a more definite standard, and taste becomes a more 
accurate judgment. Just as the child learns to compare 
weights, and colors, and distances and other things, so he 
learns to compare beautiful and sublime things with his 
intuitive standard. 



INTUITION. 285 

A Standard of Taste, — It is sometimes claimed 
that there is nothing like an absolute standard of taste. 
This would logically deny the distinctions of beautiful 
and not beautiful ; for according to such a theory a statue 
or a flower is only the expression of as much beauty as 
can be appreciated by the observer. But the observer 
may be an Orinoco Indian or an idiot. In such a case a 
harmony of Beethoven, or the pearl of the East, would 
hardly be estimated as highly as the polished, cultured 
artist would estimate it. It is true that men vary from 
this absolute standard by reason of many personal differ- 
ences ; but these personal differences can not affect the in- 
trinsic beauty of the observed statue, or the sublime cathe- 
dral harmonies. It is true that the description of a beau- 
tiful scene in nature will depend upon the personal differ- 
ences noticed ; but this description can not alter the thing 
described. 

Moreover, there are some things which have always 
been called beautiful. The master productions of art, the 
flowers of the field, the sublime harmonies of nature and 
the perfect face, have always been called beautiful. Ev- 
ery age in History has called some things beautiful, and 
we have no reason to think that men will ever call them 
anything but beautiful. Men may differ in emotional ap- 
preciationof be autiful things ; btit this does not affect the 
general standard aimed at and confessed by every orator, 
sculptor, architect, or musician. 

Taste and emotion are thus intimately associated in the 
perception of the Aesthetic, but are yet distinct and al- 
most independent. We ma}^ sum up the mental progres- 
sion in the presence of the Aesthetic as follows : 

1. Sense perception of the Aesthetic. 

2. Emotional appreciation of the Aesthetic. 

3. Intuitive conception of the Aesthetic standard. 

4. Estimation, comparison, active exercise of Taste. 



286 INTUITION 



185. 



Taste can be cultivated by exercise upon the beautiful and 
sublime as found in nature and art. 

Cultivation of Taste, — It is important to cultivate 
our taste, because upon cultivated taste depend comfort, 
goodness, nobility and purity of life. The aesthetic in- 
fluences of Nature and Art have a refijiing effect ; but 
above this, too, they have an elevating moral efl^ect. The 
discussion of culture is not our special mission here ; but 
we may indicate the necessity of this culture and suggest 
methods. These methods may be summed up as follows : 

1. Personal contact with recognized master-pieces of art. 

2. Personal contact with the sublime and beautifulvci nature. 

3. Personal contact with, and exercise in, wit and humor. 

4. Personal training in music, poetry, and other fine arts. 

The young man or woman that would acquire persua- 
sive power and governmental success should not neglect 
culture in the Beautiful. On every side we may feel the 
touches of the Aesthetic. While this culture may not di- 
rectly furnish us dollars and cents, it will put us into a 
holy communication with divine influences. 

F. THE MORAI.. 

Nature of the Moral, — We have found that space 
and cause, etc., were realities, and that the mind has an 
idea of these realities. These ideas were found to be pri- 
mary ideas of Intuition. Our researches thus aimed to 
furnish an explanation of the True and the Aesthetic ; 
but in addition to the True and the Aesthetic, we are con- 
scious of an idea different from all others in some few re- 
spects. We refer to the idea of right and wrong. It 
is, therefore, necessary to discover whether this idea is al- 
so a primary idea of Intuition and whether the moral is 



INTUITION. 287 

an objective reality like any other reality. By the moral \s 
meant the peculiar character of actions and conduct, be 
those actions internal or external. When we affirm that 
murder has a moral character, we mean that it is either 
right or wrong ; that man oitght to do right and ought not 
to do the wrong or neglect the right ; and that right doing 
has merit, but that wrong doing has no merit. 

A Complex Notion, — It will thus be noticed that 
the moral concept is complex, involving three distinct 
ideas which we may enumerate as follows : i. Right or 
Wrong. 2. Obligation. 3. Moral Estimation. The 
moral idea proper is the idea of riglit or wrong. This idea 
is considered the primary idea. 

Test of Moral Theories, — Men have tried to ex- 
plain the nature of right and wrong in many ingenious 
ways. Philosophy and government have been tainted by 
their hypotheses. lyiterature and society have been poi- 
soned by the crafty hypotheses of the materialistic and 
sceptic schools of morals. No subject enters so deeply in- 
to every concern of man, in this world and beyond the 
grave, as the question of right and wrong. Without the 
objective existence of the: right, society and home be- 
come fit abodes for the demons of the lower world. The 
denial of the moral distinctions in conduct would lead na- 
tions and governments to the absurd and the terrible. 
The denial of such distinctions would let loose all the de- 
mons of hell on earth. It is, then, a matter of vital impor- 
tance to adopt and teach a proper explanation of the mor- 
al. The effort to understand the real nature of the moral 
will lead us into a labyrinth of atheistic and materialistic 
hypotheses. These hypotheses must be accounted for and 
fully tested. Such tests are to be based upon. i. Con- 
duct. 2. Consciousness. 3. The laws of human thought. 
4. Psychologic precedence. Let us first understand how 
to apply these tests. 



288 INTUITION. 

Conduct, — By conduct is meant the doings of men in 
history. We may know what the conduct of all nations 
and individuals was, by examining history and by exam- 
ining the vocabulary of every language. Men every- 
where and always conform their conduct more or less to 
their idea of right and wrong. Penal institutions are evi- 
dences of a confession by all nations that the conduct of 
men is sometimes wrong. We may also test a hypothesis 
b}^ applying it to our own personal conduct as we recollect 
it from childhood years. 

Consciousness, — That hypothesis of the moral which 
does not stand the test of our own consciousness or that 
of historical personages as revealed in literature, society, 
government and religion, must fail to win our reasonable 
credence. Consciousness must be the reliable standard in 
psychology ; and it is so when men do not base their the- 
ories upon pet notions or upon the wish to justify f/iezr 
own criminal co7iduct. The consciousness of a young stu- 
dent is particularly valuable, since it has not been blunt- 
ed and mis-educated by acquired beliefs and prejudices. 
We must, however, guard against the superficial evidence 
of consciousness in our younger years. 

I/RWS of thought. — We found, under the discus- 
sion of syllogisms, certain laws of thought, known as 
I.OGICAI, CONTRADICTIONS. lyCt US re-state a few of 
these laws : i. A thing can not both be and not be. 2. A 
thing must either be or not be. We may expand these 
laws thus : i . An action can not at the same moment be both 
rig-ki and not right. 2. An action must be either right or 
not right. Whatever hypothesis as to the moral character 
of human conduct does not stand these tests must be re- 
jected as impossible and absurd. 

Psychologic Precedence, — By psychologic prece- 
dence we mean the activity -order of Intellect, Sensibility, 
and Will. It is considered impossible for the mind to feel 



INTUITION. 289 

before it has an idea or thought. Philosophy and con- 
sciousness can not point to an instance where an emotion 
was not preceded by an idea or a thought. We can not 
feel love or hate toward that which we never kneiv ; we 
can not sympathize with that which never prompts an ^V<?« 
or a thought. Emotion, Affection, and Desire are alzvays 
and inseparably subsequent to Intellectual activity. Child 
and man are subject to this invariable laiv of mental pre- 
cedence, and it becomes a proper moral test. 

FOUR DEFECTIVE MORAL THEORIES 
TESTED. 

186. 

The defective theories of right and wrong are those of: i. 
Highest happiness. 2, Utility. 3. Legal Enactment. 4. The 
Nature of Things. 

Highest Happiness Theory, — According to this 
theory, that is right which leads to our highest happiness. 
We can not know whether a thing is right or wrong until 
we know whether it will bring us the highest happiness. 

Xhe Theory Tested. — Men do not act as if this 
was their idea of right and wrong. Children and adults 
often consider that right which will not bring them hap- 
piness. Children and adults often decide a thing right or 
wrong before they are able to know what will bring them 
highest happiness. It is, moreover, a matter of experi- 
ence, that we can not always know what will bring us the 
highest happiness. The patriot acts as if he thought his 
conduct was right though he were cast into the dungeons 
of Siberia or the prisons of Rome. The mother s self-sac- 
rifice, the offers of friendship, mean nothing if they do not 
mean that such sacrifices are right even if they do not 
bring highest happiness. Such sacrifices are often made 



290 INTUITION. 

previoUvS to all reflection on happiness. In the second 
place, we are conscious of doing what we call right, long 
before we can reflect on consequences. Literature and 
history show this to have been true of all men. In the 
third place, what brings happiness to one man may bring 
misery to an other. In this case, that which made one 
man liapp}^ and the other miserable must at the same 
moment be both right and wrong. Of course, the absur- 
dity is evident. Paley and others seem to have held this 
theory of the moral. 

The Utility Theory, — According to this theory, 
that is right which ultimately results in highest utility 
or highest good. Mill seems to have held this theory. 
It is a crafty hypothesis. 

The Theory Tested. — Men can not always tell 
what will bring them the highest good. In this case, 
they could not know what is right or wrong. Second, 
men often act before they have time to consider whether 
their act will bring them good. Third, from conscious- 
ness we learn that we do regard things right which will 
never bring us any good, and that we often act on this be- 
lief Is consciousness a deceiver ? Fourth, a thing may 
bring one man a great good, but another man, great mis- 
ery. In this case a thing must be both right and wrong 
at the same moment. This is a logical fallacy. 

Legal Enactment Theory, — According to this 
hypothesis, that is right which conforms with legal en- 
actment. A course of conduct or an act is right because 
human law or divine law regards it as right. An act 
is wrong when it does not conform with human or divine 
law. This is the theory of the celebrated Hobbes and 
several ancient Sophists. 

The Theory Tested, — This theory is an inversion 
of cause and effect. Legal enactment pre- supposes the 
distinctions of right and wrong. All laws must be traced 



r N TU 1 TION . 291 

to law-givers. Why, according to this theory, did the 
first law-giver make a law ? Second, the conduct of men 
as recorded in history and literature, proves that things 
were often regarded zvrong, terribly wrong, in spite of 
legal enactments in their favor. Rome and I^ondon were 
often the scene of boodshed because legal enactment did 
not decide right or wrong according to belief. Third, 
we are conscious of doing things which we regard right, 
long before we know the laws of our government with 
reference to these acts. Fourth, according to this theory, 
the laws of Draco were as good as those of Lycurgus and 
Solon. How does this theory explain the demand for 
reformation ? Fifth, according to this view a thing may 
be a crime in one state and not a crime in another state. 
In human government this is too often the case ; but who 
would for a moment think that stealing, or falsehood or 
murder could at the same moment be both wrong and 
right, just because the laws of a state had changed ? 

The theory further holds that man could not know 
what is right unless God stated his laws as to certain lines 
of conduct. In this form, the theory contains an element 
of truth ; but it makes right an arbitrary something, re- 
fuses to believe that such 7dght is also good and absolute- 
ly good. In other words, the legal enactment theory is 
a sceptic's statement of that which he can not understand 
simply because he does not acknowledge the voice of God 
in conscience or in revelation. 

The Nature of Things, — This is also a sceptic 
theory, and it is a denial, at least, of absolute first causa- 
tion in God. According to this theory, right and wrong 
are not dependent upon the nature and will of God. Ac- 
cording to this theory, right and wrong are uncreated and 
immutable principles of things. These principles have 
no origin ; God had nothing to do with their existence ; 
and, could God no longer exist, right and wrong would 



292 INTUITION. 

still exist. According to this theory, highest happi- 
ness, utility and legal enactment, do not affect the moral 
quality of actions, and a thing is right because it is right ! 
Right and wrong are eternal qualities that depend on. 
nothing ! 

Tiie Theory Tested. — We need not do more than 
to state such nonsense to show that it is at variance with 
all revelation, philosoph^^ and common sense. Such a 
theory is an atheistic effusion that blasphemes its own 
statement and makes God a mere figure-head in a univer- 
sal chaotic immutability. Christian philosophy should 
blush to be touched by such a theory. Nothing, surely, 
can exist outside of the creation of God. 

T//E CORRECT THEORY OF THE MORAL. 

X87, 

That is absolutely right which has invariable conformity with 
the unchangeable nature and consequently unchangeable will of 
God. 

Conformity with God's Holy Nature and 
Will, — This theory may be called the objective theory. 
According to this theory it is not highest happiness, not 
utility, not law, not an arbitrary enactment, not the un- 
originated nature of things, t/iat makes a thing right. 
Some of the things just enumerated follow in the wake of 
right action ; but they are not the essence or the ground 
of the moral. According to this theory, God is the creator 
of the universe and the creator of the human conscience. 
Upon all things God has impressed the distinctions of his 
own necessary and immutable character. Some things 
are absolutely right and some things are absolutely wrong. 
Right and wrong are absolute realities not because any- 
thing arbitrary has made them so. That which invaria- 



i 



INTUITION. 293 

bly conforms with God'vS unchangeable nature is abso- 
lutely right and that which does not conform with God's 
unchangeable nature is absolutely wrong. This theory 
does not sceptically or blasphemously suppose that God's 
nature or consequent will might change ; it acknowledges 
the ultimate ground of right to be God's holy nature and 
God's holy will. God did not impose moral distinctions 
arbitrarily, but through wisdom, goodness and loving 
kindness. There is no partiality, no exception, no varia- 
bleness, no contradiction in this view. The heathen and 
and the Christian alike have bowed to its truth. Univer- 
sal conduct, universal consciousness, universal logic and 
universal mind, acknowledge that the hypothesis is a ver- 
ified truth. Whenever men say they do not understand 
this nature of right, they contradict themselves in daily 
conduct. This theory claims that God has written his 
i^AW OF RIGHT in the conscience of all men, and that 
through nature and revelations he reveals himself to every 
creature. We need not blush before the judgment thrones 
of this world or that of the GrKAT Morai. Judge, if we 
obey or conform and mould our conduct according to 
this theory. 

Objective Character of the Moral, — Right and 
wrong are not subjective impressions, variable emotions ; 
but like space, and time, and cause, they are objective 
realities impressed as a character upon the actions of all 
moral beings. Should an^- one deny the premises upon 
which this theory is based, we can only say to him that 
his mind is prejudiced or his heart turned in sceptic sway 
toward that which suits his sin-blurred ideals. We are 
impressed with the belief that, if this is the nature of right, 
no man is deceived, no man is omitted and no man needs 
to hesitate to be judged by his fellows. 



294 INTUITION. 

ORIGIN OF THE IDEA OF THE MORAL, 
i88. 

The defective theories that explain the origin of the moral 
idea are those of: i. Education. 2. Association. 3. Imitation. 
4. Legal Enactment. 5. Moral Sense. 6. Sympathy. 

All these theories over- look the fact that the moral idea 
precedes education, association, etc. We shall briefly test 
them by the tests before proposed. The student will find 
no difficulty. 

SIX DEFECTIVE THEORIES TESTED. 

Education Theory, — According to this theory, we 
derive the idea of right from education ; if for some rea- 
son there is no education, there can not be an idea of right 
or wrong. 

But education presupposes an educator. How, accord- 
ing to this theory, did the first educator know what was 
right and wrong ? How did the idea come to him f 
Second, the little child acts upon the idea of right and 
wrong previous to reflection, previous to educational in- 
fluences ; the child is as indignant at a real or fancied 
injury as the philosopher. Anger, resentment, etc., all 
prove that the child has the idea of wrong, previous to ed- 
ucation. According to this theory, the moral is a variable 
something that may cause the loss of all distinctions in 
moral character. According to this theory, diverse edu- 
cations would make men believe the same thing at the 
same moment to be both right and not right. 

Association Theory. — According to this theory, 
certain emotions are associated with an act of ours : if the 
emotion is unpleasant, the child comes to look upon such 
act as wrong ; if the emotion is pleasant, the act associated 
is Ipoked upon as right. 



INTUITION. 295 

This makes the moral a mere subjective impression, 
variable as emotions. The association theory is a viola- 
tion of the psychologic precedence. Emotion implies pre- 
ceding ideas, cognition ; I have no emotion of right or 
wrong until I cognize a thing as right or wrong. The 
theory is an inversion of facts as indicated by conscious- 
ness and conduct. 

The Imitation Theory, — According to the imita- 
tion theory, we get the idea of right and wrong by imitating 
the conduct of our fathers. What our fathers, our com- 
munity, our age, consider right, we learn to consider 
right. The idea is an acquired one ; and depends upon 
tradition, institution, government. 

The Theory Tested, — The imitation theory is a 
violation of conduct and consciousness. We do consider 
things right that are not considered so by our environ- 
ments. Environment, education, imitation, may develop 
or blur this idea, but they can not originate it. Imitation 
implies a copy. This copy must have an original author, 
and this author must have had the idea of right apart 
from imitation. The imitation theory is also a violation 
of the laws of thought, since diverse models would cause 
diverse ideas. 

The I/egal Enactment Theory, — According to 
this theory, no one could have the idea of right and wrong 
if there were no laws authorizing some things as right and 
condemning other things as wrong. The theory has al- 
ready been tested and need not be tested again. It is an 
inversion of all facts in conduct and consciousness. 

The Moral- Sense Theory, — Shaftsbury and 
Hutcheson suggest and develop the theory. It is a very 
ambiguous theory. If by moral sense is meant a special 
sense like sight, the theory condemns itself as visionary ; 
for we have no evidence of such a sense in the conduct or 
consciousness of men. If by moral sense is meant Intid- 



296 INTUITION. 

Hon, the theory is m the line of truth, but employs an un- 
fortunate term. 

The Sympathy Theory. — This is the theory of 
Adam Smith, a writer on Political Economy, etc. It is 
a very ingenious theory. According to this theory, we 
transfer our sympathies to the conduct of others and de- 
cide an act as right or wrong according to our sympathies. 
The theory deserves some criticism. 

The Theory Tested, — Sympathy is a matter of 
emotion. Emotion is preceded by cognition. Before we 
can sympathize, we must have the idea of right or wrong 
in an act. Second, the conduct of men is not in conformi- 
ty with this theory. Men have the idea of right and 
wrong long before they can detect a reason for sympathy. 
If for some reason or other, I do not sympathize with an 
act, it can not be right. From consciousness we know 
this is untrue. We may sympathize with the vilest crim- 
inal ; but we do not say that his conduct was right. Ac- 
cording to this theory, the same act might be at the same 
moment both right and wrong, because one man may 
sympathize with the act and the other may not do so. 

THE CORRECT THEORY OF MORAL IDEAS. 

i8g. 

Intuition conceives the moral idea when Perception presents 
the occasion of concrete conduct. 

Origin of the Idea of Eight and Wrong, — 

The idea can not come from judgment ; this faculty does 
not originate ideas ; it compares them. Abstraction 
and GKNKRAivizATiON can not furnish the moral idea, be- 
cause upon abstract and general ideas there is the stamp 
of contingency. The moral idea is not thus acquired. It 
is a connate, primary truth. As such it is known by the 



I N TU I TI O N. 297 

proper criteria. // is self-evident, a priori, universal and 
necessary. It is self-evident because the little child un- 
derstands it. This is shown by its conduct. It is a pri- 
ori because it precedes reflection and education. The 
savage and the philosopher alike conform their conduct 
to this moral standard. It is universal ; this is shown by 
the literature and laws of all nations and all civilizations. 
The vilest criminal knows the meaning of, "It is not fair", 
''You cheat." It is necessary ; this is shown by the fact 
that conscience summons every one before its tribunal. 
You may find a hardened sinner who claims that he is not 
tormented by moral distinctions, but he is lying when he 
says so. The very fact that he tries to make us believe he 
is free from such a governing principle is a proof that he 
can not rest. Upon this idea is based all moral character. 

EXISTENCE OF A MORAL NATURE. 
igo. 

The moral distinctions indicated in the literature and institu- 
tions of all civilizations prove the existence of a moral faculty. 

Existence of Conscience, — The moral nature of 
man implies a moral faculty. This faculty is not a new 
power of the mind, but rather a new application of Judg- 
ment. Men have called this moral power by many names ; 
but the one commonly used is consciknce. The formation 
of the word denotes the intellectual character of this pow- 
er ; it signifies that together with a contemplated act 
there is a cognition of its ethical character or value. The 
consciousness of mankind and all human conduct indi- 
cate the existence of a moral nature. Apart from this 
hypothesis, we can give no proper account of laws and 
customs. If we do not admit the existence of conscience, 
we must consider, the distinctions of right and wrong as 



298 I N T U I T I O N . 

indicated by complacericy and remorse as utterly absurd. 
Why should we feel satisfied or dissatisfied if our conduct 
has no moral character? The administration of justice in 
family, society and state, indicates and proves the exis- 
tence of a moral nature in mankind. The prison, the 
block, the Siberian mines, the Grecian galley, the Roman 
dungeon, the African revenge, war and resentment, all 
these mean nothing if they do not mean that man has a 
moral nature. Language and literature are full of such 
words as honest, fair, just, right, honorable, virtuous, 
ought, duty, merit, remorse, etc. Mythology has mould- 
ed conscience into the mythical y^^r/V^-. Orestes is their 
object of pursuit, and he can not escape their horrible 
clutches. If any one does not admit the force of such 
proofs, the burden of proof lies upon him, nor can he ev- 
er prove the non-existence of conscience any more than 
he can prove the non-existence of Judgment or Reason- 
ing. 

What is far more important to all men, is to understand 
the nature and authority of conscience. Is conscience an 
intellectual power ? Is it an emotional capacity ? Is it a 
combination of these ? Is conscience always a safe guide ? 
Will it never err ? Is it a uniform standard ? Such are 
the practical questions that suggest themselves. We 
shall proceed to the investigation of the nature and au- 
thority of Conscience. 

igi. 

Conscience is a tribunal power of the mind, and the basis for 
its comparison consists of three intuitive cognitions. 

Nature of Conscience. — It is surely most difficult 
to define conscience ; but an approximate definition may 
be found by an analysis of the complicated operations of 
the moral nature. The definition above stated recognizes 



INTUITION. 299 

the predominant iiitellechtal character of conscience and 
does not deny the emotional elements so intimately asso- 
ciated with every cognition and decision of conscience. 
We have called it a tribunal power. This tribunal 
power pre -supposes three primary ideas of intuition. This 
tribunal power includes three succesive intuitive cogni- 
tions, three consequent comparisons, and three verdicts 
or decisions. The three fundamental grounds for moral 
decisions are the primary cognitions of Right, Obliga- 
tion, and Estimation. Each intellectual cognition 
with its vSubsequent decision is followed by correspond- 
ing emotions. While these emotions are logically distinct 
from the intellectual elements of conscience, the}^ are psy- 
chologicall}^ necessary in their order of succession and 
they are chronologically simultaneous. The character of 
these emotions is a topic under Sensibilities. 

Analysis of the Moral Tribunal Activity, — 
lyet us take a concrete case and indicate the successive 
steps. lyCt the contemplated something be Nihilism. 

1. Intuition furnishes the idea of Right. We may 
state the mind's practical syllogism thus : "That which 
conforms with the nature and will of God is right" ; but 
Nihilism does not thus conform ; therefore Nihilism is 
ivrongy The intuitive cognition is here our basis for 
comparison ; but Nihilism has a particular motive, charac- 
ter and effects. I must know these items to some extent. 
Nihilism known as a something now becomes the second 
object for direct comparison. Jiidgment, morally applied, 
compares this given something, Nihilism, with the intui- 
tive cognition of what is right, and decides conformity or 
non- conformity as to this particular act. The decision 
may be stated thus : "Nihilism does not conform with my 
/flf^a of Right" ; or, "Nihilism is wrong". This decision, 
this tribunal verdict is followed by emotion. 

2. Intuition now furnishes the cognition of Obliga- 



300 INTUITION. 

TiON. The idea of obligation thus becomes the basis of 
a second comparison. The mind's practical syllogism 
may be stated thus : "I ought to do that which is right ; 
but Nihilism is not right ; therefore I ought not to engage 
in Nihilism." Every syllogism thus formed is composed 
of an intuitive axiom, a reflective comparison of the con- 
templated act with this intuitive standard, and a tribunal 
decision of Judgment based upon this comparison. The 
process may be conscious or sub-conscious. This decision 
is also followed by a corresponding emotion. This emo- 
tion must be regarded as a spring of action in right 
conduct. Were this emotion not to follow, it may be 
doubtful whether men would ever do the right. Indeed, 
often this emotion is feeble in men, and the consequence 
is stated something like this : "I knozv I ought to do so 
and so, but I do wo'i feel like doing so and so." This 
seems to be common experience. Duty and its pursuit is 
to be decided in this decision of conscience ; but the cor- 
responding emotion is often too weak to occasion an effort 
of the Will. 

3. There is another step. Intuition furnishes the idea 
of KSTiMATiON. We may state the mind's practical syl- 
logism thus : "I approve of right conduct, because there 
is merit in it" ; but Nihilistic acts are ivrong conduct ; 
therefore I disapprove of Nihilistic acts, because there is 
demerit in them." We are perhaps only sub-conscious of 
such mental steps ; but there can be no doubt about the 
process itself This final decision of conscience, this final 
verdict of conscience applies to ourselves and others. The 
verdict is followed by a corresponding emotion of satis- 
faction or remorse. It will be seen that the complex char- 
acter of the moral activity is pre-dominantly intellectual, 
but that psychologically moral action could not be effected 
apart from corresponding emotions. The emotion of 
Right, of Obi^igation, and of Estimation, do consti- 



INTUITION. 301 

tute elements of our moral nature, though they do not 
constitute the basis, the intuitive grmindwork of con- 
science. The intellectual and emotional elements of con- 
science are intimately interwoven, and seem to be psycho- 
logical necessities of our moral nature. We may sum up 
the experience of every normal mind in the presence of 
any given act as follows : 

MENTAlv FORMULA OF MORAL EXPERIENCE. 

X. Cognition of Right, and Comparison with 
Conduct, 

A. Mental Syllogism : 

That which conforms with God's nature and will is right ; 
But Gambling does not thus conform ; 
Therefore gambling is inro)u/. 

B. Consequent and involved y^?^'//;/^ of right action. 

II. Cognition of Obligation, and the Compari- 

son of Application. 

A. Syllogism : 

I onffht to do that which i? right ; 
But gambling is not right ; 
Therefore I ought not to gamble. 

B. Consequent and psychologically necessary feeling 

of obligation. 

III. Cognition of Estimation, and the Com- 

parison of Application. 

A. Syllogism : 

I approve of that which has moral merit ; 
But gambling has no moral merit ; 
Therefore I disapprove of gambling. 

B. Consequent and necessary feeling of estimation. 
The student should apply this formula until the steps 



302 INTUITION. 

are perfectly familiar. It is believed that a mastery of 
the formula wili make moral decisions far more intelligent 
and satisfactory. It must be remembered that the formu- 
la implies^ a sufficient knowledge of the motives, character 
and effects of the particular conduct or act to be tested. 

AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 

The moral authority of conscience is final when a sane man 
has mature intelligence, proper culture and information, and is 
free from wrong motives. 

Sanity and Mature Intelligence. — The author- 
ity of conscience is not final in idiots and children. We 
do not consider idiots and children responsible agents, 
mainly because their conscience is not reliable on account 
of their idiocy and immature intelligence. A child has 
the intuitive cognition of Right and Wrong, and may be 
able to compare some contemplated act with this standard 
of right and wrong ; but the intuitive basis may not be 
developed, and want of mature intelligence may not make 
the comparison a correct one. This is evident from the 
fact that mature intelligence is necessary in order to un- 
derstand and estimate the motives and character and effects 
of the thing under consideration. Children can not usu- 
ally tell whether gambling, marble-playing, anger, amuse- 
ments, &c. , are right or wrong. Grown people are often 
uncertain in their moral decisions for the same reason. 

Proper Culture of the Intuitive Cognitions, 

— The reliability of conscience must depend upon the cul- 
ture of the moral ideas. These ideas must be developed 
from an acorn into an oak. The moral axioms based 
upon the ideas must be stated more and more clearly. 



INTUITION. 303 

The cognitions must be nourished, urged, and brought 
into use. When the moral cognitions lie as if in the back 
ground or have been bedaubed with the mud of violation, 
association and sin, the voice of conscience becomes 
weaker and weaker. In time, the refusal to recognize 
this intuitive voice, will result in practical loss of con- 
science. Pharoah and hardened criminals thus harden 
their hearts, until they can trample conscience under foot. 
This can not always be done. Sickness and death often 
remove the fetters that bind conscience, and the criminal 
stands undefended under his own accusation. Obedience, 
promptness and God's Word, are excellent quickeners of 
our moral nature. The Word of God especially makes 
the intuitive standard more and more definite, and calls 
forth prompt comparisons whenever we must consider some 
act contemplated or committed. 

V^nll Information, — Conscience is not reliable when 
we have not proper information. As remarked, this in- 
formation often requires long time, maturity of intelli- 
gence and sanity ; but it implies a great deal more. The 
thorough enlightenment of conscience depends upon edu- 
cation, habits, customs, laws and parentage. All these 
items help us to gain proper information about the mo- 
tives, character and effects of any contemplated conduct. 
Nihilism, theatre-going, card-playing, church fairs, &c., 
furnish illustrations of diverse decisions of conscience. 
Men of different communities, historical epochs, religious 
persuasions, &c., will decide differently because their 
amoimt of information is different. All these persons may 
be as conscientious as Paul was when he decided it was 
right to persecute the Christians. The kducationai^ 
SYSTEM of the ancients differed from the modern systems, 
and so do the moral decisions of men differ. They ap- 
proach the nearest to an absolute standard of right and 
wrong, who have the fullest information. Habits, too, 



304 INTUITION. 



have a great modifying influence upon conscience : 
saloon keeper can see no wrong in selling liquor ; the 
dancing master can see no wrong in dancing. The laws 
of a country modify the moral decisions of the masses. 
The RK1.1GIOUS CODES of the church modify the con- 
science of men in many ways. Pare^nTAGK is a powerful 
factor in the modification of conscience : the child of a de- 
vout mother will be likely to think that wrong, which a 
child of the wicked mother would think quite right. Our 
parentage moulds our conscience. We may be Democrats 
or Republicans, religious or not religious, because our 
parents were so. In all these cases conscience becomes 
the more reliable in proportion to proper influences, proper 
information. These influences can be counter- acted. 

F'reedom from Wrong Motives, — Conscience is 
more likely to be reliable when we are free from preju- 
dice, self-interest, passion, &c. By prkjudice is meant 
a fore- gone conclusion, a bias, a previous belief. A pre- 
judice in the right direction is safe enough ; but many of 
us are thus prejudiced against rigk^ things and prejudiced 
in favor of wrong things. Saul was prejudiced, the church 
is sometimes prejudiced, peculiar temperaments are often 
oddly prejudiced, the wicked and the good are prejudiced. 
Conscience suffers or gains as the case may be. Sklf- 
InterBST makes conscience less reliable. Vice is justi- 
fied by such self-interest. The slave-holder, the gambler, 
the liquor dealer, the politician, the party, — all these men 
can not have thoroughly reliable decisions. We have a 
right to test their decisions. Passion, with its fire and 
its storm, may so conquer conscience, may so dethrone 
conscience and trample it under the unholy foot of un- 
checked mania, that men will take their own life and that 
of others. I^osses, disappointments, &c., are scattering 
their myriads upon the sea-shore. Tired of life, ex- 
hausted, disgusted, they conclude that suicide is right, 



the 9' 



INTUITION. 305 

and even pray to God to help them in their unholy acts. 
Assassination and suicide have often found their justifi- 
cation in just such motives. When the motives of an 
act are passion, how can conscience be reliable ? 

Personal Relations to an Act. — Conscience is 
more reliable when we can estimate our rkIvATions to a 
certain act. I must know the effects of conduct upon my- 
self and others, before I can form any moral decision. 
Rationally, it may be wrong for one man to read novels 
and right for another. A great many questions propose 
themselves at this point ; but they properly belong to 
Ethics. It is to be remembered, however, that our recip- 
rocal relations help to determine a reliable conscience. 

A Uniform Standard, — Conscience is rehable when 
it decides upon an act that is universally considered right 
or wrong. We are not likely to err in our estimation of 
murder, fraud, slander, &c. This topic will be resumed 
later on. 

PECULIAR MORAL SITU A TIONS. 

193 

Conscience may err when there are conflicting motives, con- 
scientious bigotry, &c. 

ConHicting Motives, — Conscience may err when 
the mind decides upon a particular course of conduct. 
This often occurs when several courses look like the course 
of duty. The most faithful Christian may thus think it 
is right for him to sacrifice his own health and life for the 
good of others or for some great cause. Which course is 
right in this case ? A man must balance these motives, 
apply them ho7iestly to his own case, weigh the value of 
counsel, and when he has done all in his po^er to become 
fully informed, he must obey his conscience — is in duty 



3o6 INTUITION. 

bound to obey his conscience. Self-defence is, on this 
ground, acknowledged a sufficient plea to justify even the 
taking of life. Conflicting motives may partake of selfish- 
ness, self-interest, prejudice, wrong education, wrong 
habits, wrong physical system, &c. In these cases it is 
of utmost importance that a man criticize his own moral 
decisions. In youth we are often uncertain as to the 
moral value of a thing. Even among older people, it is 
quite common to be uncertain whether it is right to pat- 
ronize the stage, to write letters on the Sabbath day, to 
tell a ' 'white lie' ' , &c. The best answer, the safest coun- 
sel, in such cases is the Bible. Everything that has the 
appearance of evil is thus brought under the eye of a 
Christianized conscience. 

Conscientious Bigotry. — In Politics and Religion 
as well as in the ordinary concerns of life, enthusiasm may 
lead to bigotry. Narrowness of thought, biased educa- 
tion, parentage, ardent temperament, &c., may lead to 
bigotry. Bigotry may be a conscientious conviction as to 
the moral worth of an act or a course of conduct. Paul 
erred, not because he was not conscientious, but because 
he was a conscientious digoL Many of us are erring in 
the same way to-day. The questions of temperance, 
amusement, games, music, festivals and the like, suggest 
illustrations. In this respect, conscience is something 
like a good watch. The owner may know the maker, 
may have trusted his watch for years, and may thus come 
to think that his watch can never point to the wrong 
hour. Many a conscientious man is an hour ahead or an 
hour behind his age in moral views. 

^' Z/ike and Ought/' — Frequently duty is looked 
upon as identical with "Like". "I think it must be 
right because I like it." It is thus that the gambler, the 
social butter- fij^, and the deluded millions come to their 
life-motto. In such cases coUvScience and prudence are 



INTUITION. 307 

dethroned, life manifests itself in dress, display, comfort, 
and the like ; self-denial and "Ought" have fallen out of 
the question; emotion, impulse, now holds sway ; con- 
science is disregarded and her voice has become a faint 
whisper that can be slighted, trampled upon, despised. 
Practically this is the case with thousands, until some ca- 
lamity overtakes presuming humanity, removes the cob- 
webs that have accumulated, and gives to Conscience her 
rightful sway. How accusing, how urgent, how convict- 
ing then is Conscience ! 

PSYCHOLOGICAL DEGENERACY. 
194, 

All the powers of our mind may err; but we do not therefore 
say that the Creator is mocking us. 

No Deception Intended, — Perception may mis- 
lead us, Memory may fail us. Judgment may miss the 
exact standard. Reasoning may conclude wrongly, but we 
do not think that the Creator meant to deceive us. Should 
any one claim such an absurd thing, the burden of proof 
would rest with him. No one can prove that any faculty is 
unreliable ; for he must needs use these faculties in his 
proof Of course, according to his hypothesis, he can 
not rely upon his ow7i proof. 

Conscience not Designed for Deception. — By 
analogy, we reasonably infer that the Creator did not 
mean to deceive us in Conscience. From the very nature 
of Conscience, we ju.stly infer that this power was given 
man as his sufficient earthly guide. If any man does not 
accept this position, he can furnish no better, and we do 
not think it proper to argue with him. Such a man 
chooses to leap from the highest moral precipice, and we 
must let him leap. 

14 



308 INTUITION. 

Misused Conscience Not a Safe Guide, — 

While, therefore, conscience must be regarded as trust- 
worthy, we must remember that by disuse, faulty develop- 
ment and the like, it may become untrustworthy. We 
can not emphasize this caution too much. As a general 
rule, indeed, we must render obedience to this moral law 
of our life. But you say, how can I obey that which 
seams to be no certain vStandard ? "Shall the blind lead 
the blind" ? But, I answer, your hypothesis is un- 
warranted. There is a uniform standard ; the dzver- 
sity of application does not affect the standard. 

A Diversity of Information and Culture. — 
This diversity does not consist in the absolute distinctions 
between right and wrong, not in the ought and the 
ought not, nor in the approval or disapproval of that 
which is decided upon ; but the diversity consists in 
the information which we have as to the causes, character 
and effects of that which is compared with our intuitive 
cognitions. When men have equal culture and are under 
like conditions, they do recognize a uniform standard. It 
is this diversity oicnlture and information \\\2ii causes di- 
verse conclusions of conscience. The savage may develop 
into a philosopher. His moral decisions will make a cor- 
responding step in advance. What he could not under- 
stand in his savage condition may now become clear in its 
moral value. Not that the philosopher has a conscience 
and that the savage had none ; not that the philosopher 
acqitired the idea of right and wrong through the acquisi- 
tion of philosophical lore ; but that his philosophical 
training makes his compariso7is more accurate. How easy, 
in this light, it is to explain diversity of views with regard 
to war and persecution, cannibalism and government ! 

Absolute and Relative Right. — That which is 
right because it conforms with God's nature and will, is 
ABSOI.UTE; RIGHT ; but that which is right according to 



INTUITION. 309 

our best conscience is RK1.ATIVK right. A man is in 
duty bound to obey relative right. The doctrine that 
"the end justifies the means," is sometimes called relative 
right ; but it is never true that such a doctrine originated 
from right motives or right estimation. The motive of 
men may justify their position only when the character 
and effects of means and end are rightly estimated. This 
can hardly have been true in the formation of the code 
just criticised. Relative right is decided by motive even 
when the act itself may be wrong. A man may intend to 
tell the truth ; but may after all tell an untruth. We 
would not condemn the man if he took fair precautions to 
inform himself properly. The doctrine of relative right 
must be very cautiously applied, since it has lead to seri- 
ous results in history and morals. 

The feeble and timid, or the bleared and reckless conscience, 
should be encouraged or chided. 

Unhealthy Conscience, — The feeble and timid 
conscience is often found in children and in timid temper- 
aments. The/eedle and timid conscience may be the effect 
of parentage, education, suppression, or general weakness 
of character and mind. Such a conscience must be en- 
couraged by advice and especially by Christian teaching. 
The bleared and reckless conscience results from neglect, dis- 
obedience and evil association. In such a conscience the 
distinctions of right and wrong are not applied to actual 
conduct. The man of bleared conscience stops his ears 
and shuts his eyes when God talks to him through Rea- 
son, or Intuition. The reckless conscience may be intui- 
tively clear ; but may not care to be informed about the 
motives, character and effects of an act. Such men are 
found everywhere. To inform themselves fully would 
take away their business, their pride, their reputation ! 



3IO INTUITION. 

ig6. 

Every man is accountable for the earnest cultivation of his 
moral nature. 

Cultivation of Conscience, — Ethics is the science 
of morals. Practical ethics has its axioms, and upon these 
axioms men base their conduct. All virtuous conduct 
must conform with these axioms ; and, whatever does not 
conform with these axioms is looked upon as vice. Every 
man thus finds his moral relations to himself, his fellows 
and his God. The voice of conscience should for these 
reasons not be disregarded. Every moral influence should 
be watched. It is our duty as a responsible agent to cul- 
tivate conscience. 

Importance of Moral Culture, — The idea of 
Right is the crowning idea of human mind, and as such, 
must have a great value in human culture. The culture 
of conscience gives highest dignitj^ to manhood, and colors 
his character. Indeed, moral culture is the bsse^ncb of 
personal character. That man whose conscience holds 
sway over his head and heart acquires an influence in this 
world that we can hardly estimate. The greatness of 
Washington and lyUther was the greatness of a moral 
manhood. Without such manhood, talent and genius 
will only disappoint and wreck the world. Family, state, 
art and literature, gain strength and dignity when its 
authors have high moral worth, high culture of Con- 
science. 

Methods of Culture, — Conscience acquires culture 
hy precept, example 2l\\A habit. PrkckpT is the teaching 
of teacher, friend and parent. ExampIvE comes to us 
through every asssociation in life. The more conspic- 
uous these examples are, the more effective will be moral 
culture. The best moral precepts are those of the Bible ; 
the best model is Jesus of Nazareth, Habit is acquired 



INTUITION. 311 

activity. From childhood to age, our obedience to con- 
science should be an invariable habit. The obedience 
should h^ prompt ; it should be honest and cheerful; it 
should be the outgrowth of Faith to God and lyove to 
Man. 



PART SECOND.— SENSIBILITY, 



Preparaiory 



Psychological Activity Three-Pold. — The mind 
is pre-eminently a thought-power ; but it is more than 
thought. The mind is characterized also by an Emotion- 
al Nature and by a Voluntary Nature. Thought, 
Feeling, Volition — this is the mind's logical and chrono- 
logical order of products. Thought leads to feeling ; feel- 
ing leads to volition and conduct. The emotional nature 
is the source and spring of human life. Apart from emo- 
tional energy, the mind would be incapable of volition or 
action. Head, Heart and Hand, these are the symbolic 
types of mental activity. In Pedagogy there are three 
R's ; but in Psychology there are three H's. 

Feelings as Concomitants of Thought, — The 
emotional nature is known by the name of Sensibility. 
Its feelings are, however, not ph3^sical feeling, as in the 
sense of touch. The name sensibility is used by analog}'. 
The emotional nature may be regarded as a grand Fac- 
ulty of the mind ; its products are simple emotions, af- 
fections and desires. These are products rather than fac- 
ulties. Indeed, all the feelings are properly invohtntary 
and spontaneous concomitants of causative thoughts. 



314 SENSIBILITY. 

EXISTENCE OF AN EMOTIONAL NATURE, 

197- 

The existence of an emotional nature is proved from language, 
conduct, consciousness and physiognomy. 

Pour Proofs, — It seems hardly necessary to prove 
the existence of an emotional nature. Every one who 
knows the difference of thought, feeling and volition, 
knows by consciousness that there is such a mental ca- 
pacity. 

I/angliage. — The literature of the world and colloquial 
language abound in such words as cheerful, sad, gay, 
jolly, happy, grief, pain, sorrow, love, hate, friendship, 
patriotism, gratitude, ecstasy, desire, aversion, anger, re- 
venge, jealousy, etc. I^anguage is the outward manifes- 
tation of mind, and in these words reveals inner mental 
processes. 

Conduct. — The conduct of the world, its excited 
scenes, its tumults and its mobs, its fierce contests and its 
grief, reveal a storm-like impulse in men and nations. 
We Sict previotis to reflection, we act in opposition to re- 
flection, and under the sway of impulse. This is a proper 
proof of our emotional nature. 

Consciousness, — This is our clearest proof, an indis- 
putable proof: 

Physiognomy. — This is the language pre-eminently 
of the heart. Poetry may gather the vocabulary of emo- 
tion ; but the human face is the study of the heart. He 
who can read faces, reads feeling, and back of them, the 
pi'oinpting thoughts. 

DOMAIN OF THE EMOTIONAL NATURE, 

198. 

The domain of the emotional nature is one of sunlight and 
shadow, of ecstasy and anguish. 



SENSIBILITY. 3I5 

A Bright Domain, — Cheerfulness diffuses its subtle 
warmth and its delicate humor into our firesides, into 
our stage, into our business and into our spiritual homes. 
Sympathy lifts up the fallen, the dying, the suffering ; 
it softens justice, erects a home for orphans and sol- 
diers, laughs with the joyous and weeps with the sad. 
Mother s love makes our home a paradise, another love 
joins kindred spirits into a companionship of heaven ; 
friendship finds a Jonathan for every David ; gratitude 
offers her garlands, her incense, her prayers ; patriot- 
ism has her shrine upon a million battle fields ; the de- 
sire for happiness, for kyiowledge, for power, for remem- 
brance, toils with a song on the lips, sends a thrill of in- 
spiration through our nerves, arms Napoleon, Washing- 
ton, Grant, lyce, Webster, Milton, Cowper, Bain, Garfield 
and a host of heroes, erects monuments and lifts the eye 
of beaming hope into a future world. It is thus that our 
Creator has breathed the breath of life into our own life 
and made us feel his goodness, his love. Who would not 
rather rule the heart than all the kingdoms of the world ! 

A Dark Domain, — But while there is a bright side 
to the emotional nature, there is also a dark side. Kvery 
positive thing in matter and mind .seems to have a nega- 
tive. One hour of unlimited sway of passion may de- 
throne the reason, banish purity and curse the soul. Mel- 
ancholy, that despondent, moody tyrant, holds in her 
power the gentle Cowper, makes our mother weep, and 
unnerves the heart in daily duty. Sorrow leads us to the 
grave of buried love, buried hopes, buried ambitions, 
buried powers, buried name. Hatred glares with fierce 
destruction ; anger often draws the dagger, fires the pis- 
tol ; jealousy hisses and foams and buries the iron deep in 
the hated rival ; revenge, more terrible than storm or 
flame, pursues its victim across the continent, across the 
sea ; desire for power burns itself into a sleepless Hanni- 
14* 



3l6 SENSIBIIvlTY. 

bal ; desire for wealth digs with worn-off finger nails into 
the miser's hut, the milHonaire's coffer, the speculator's 
fiery deal ; fear, like hell's fiercest demon, like the ghost 
of delirium, is the torment of Orestes, of wily assassins, of 
guilty defrauders, of slimy-mouthed slander, of vile pol- 
luters of purity. A seething whirlpool is the heart when 
emotions gain undisputed sway. No rest, no peace, no 
sleep, no w^armth, no sunlight in this view. 

PSYCHOLOGICAL POSITION OF FEELINGS. 

199. 

All emotional activity is preceded by intelligent activity ; emo- 
tions and thoughts are normally in balanced proportion ; and 
the sequence of emotion is volition and action. 

Necessary Precedence of Ideas, — This has al- 
ready been indicated. It is impossible to name a feeling 
of the mind that cannot be traced back to a causative 
idea. I can not feel cheerful or sad without some idea or 
thought that prompts such feelings. Such causative 
thoughts may not always be remembered ; but this is no 
proof against their occurrence. I can not feel sorrow or 
sympathy unless there is something to cause sorrow or 
sympathy ; I can not love or hate unless there is something 
to love or hate ; I can not hope or fear, wish or not wish 
for anything, unless I have had some idea of the existence 
and qualities of something. I can not admire a beautiful 
nothing ; but I can admire a beautiful something. All 
such somethings appeal primarily to perception or intui- 
tion. It is thus that all objects or causes of emotions 
have first been objects of Intellect. If this law is remem- 
bered, it will make clear many peculiar specimens of con- 
duct. Feelings need, however, not be preceded by thor- 
ough reflection, jndgmejit, Slq. 



SENSIB I LITY. 317 

Proportion and Balance of Mind. — The per- 
fectly normal mind should have a perfect balance of intel- 
lect, feeling and will. There should not be too much in- 
tellect, or too much feeling, or too much will. A disturb- 
ance in the normal proportion causes the unbalanced 
mind. We speak of the "heartless" man, and mean that 
he has trampled upon his feelings so that hard logic might 
be predominant. The men of actual power in history have 
all been balanced men. Napoleon was no less a man of 
Feeling than a man of Intellect. Cromwell, Webster, 
Washington, Garfield, etc. , were men of feeling. Novel- 
reading and theatre-going may disturb this proportion in 
several ways. Feeling may dethrone the intellect ; or, 
when feeling has no sequence of volition and action, the 
will becomes weak, loses its promptness, its power, its 
mission. It should be our constant effort to have every 
clear thought wake up a definite feeling ; and every /r^?/- 
er feeling should find its sequence in volition and in ac- 
tion. As a rule, when we find a man of fine, vSensitive 
emotional nature, we find a man of quick intellect and 
logical calibre. This may not always appear on first 
sight ; but a suitable occasion will show this. Ericson, 
the inventor, thus learned that evai he loved Ole Bull's 
violin. 

Sequences of Volition and Action, — The feel- 
ings are the springs of action. It is impossible to say in 
a small space, how wonderfully our emotional nature is 
inter- woven with every thing we do. History", social and 
family life, government and religion, are as much a de- 
velopment of feeling as of genius or intellect. Our voli- 
tions are the proper sequence of feelings. We might con- 
ceive of beings endowed with only thought ; but it would 
be difficult to see how there could be volition or action 
apart from an emotional nature. God himself is thought, 
/ee/i?io- and 7£>i// ,- and we are made in his image. "God 



3l8 SE^NSIBILITY. 

SO /oved the world that he gave, etc". In this quota- 
tion God is represented as giving because he loved. 
The human mind, too, acts when feeling prompts. An 
intelligent guidance of our feelings may thus prompt our 
will to noblest actions. Directly, the will may sometimes 
be powerless in the grasp of feeling ; but indirectly, 
through thought- control, the will has also power over feel- 
ing. Shakespeare's characters are personifications of 
heart-activities. The student of the heart ought to be a 
student of Shakespeare. Demosthenes was a powerful 
orator because his voice was touched by the magnetism of 
heart-life. Napoleon held sway over his armies because 
his heart was a driving storm of impulse. ' ' Thirty Cen- 
turies look down upon you", inspires his troops into a 
universal heart-throb. The drama, the stage, shows how 
vcL\xQ)ci feeling has to do with human action. Men are good 
or bad in proportion to the sway of feeling in their heart ; 
and this is true not only on the mimic stage, but upon the 
wide world- arena. What a spring of action in a mother's 
love ! "Home, Sweet Home", was not the production of 
intellect so much as it was the utterance of the heart. 
"My Own, My Native lyand", was the outburst of a 
patriotic heart, and the song has stirred a million men in- 
to an irresistible heart-throb. David and Jonathan live 
again in the heart-home, the social home, the family, the 
school. Othello's jealousy to-day, as long ago, drives 
love and trust into a dungeon and shrieks a demon's hiss 
into the heart of Desdemona. Burdette and Bain to-day 
touch their thousands with the touch of humor and pathos. 
What a power actually lies in this main-spring of the 
heart ! We can not estimate the result of mental heart- 
throbs until we shall feel the great heart of the/ Master be- 
yond the grave. 



SENSIBII^ITY. 319 

CLASS I PICA riON OF EMO TIONAL PROD UCPS. 

ZOO, 

All feelings may be classified into Simple Emotions, Affections 
and Desires. 

Basis of ClassiAcation, — Feelings are classified on 
the basis of certain characteristics or attributes. Dr. 
McCosh classifies feelings differently from other writers. 
For his classification, see his work on the the emotions. 
Feelings are commonly classified into Simple Emotions, 
Affections and Desires. The characteristic of a simple 
emotion is its subjective nature ; the characteristic of an 
affection is its objective nature ; and the characteristic of 
a desire is its attractive nature. Feelings have been com- 
pared to a flowing stream : the simple emotions are like the 
fountain ; the affections, like the touch of the stream along 
its banks ; desires, like the current or eddy that draws 
everything it touches to itself and into itself. The simple 
emotions denote the moods of our mind ; the affections de- 
note our heart-warmth ; the desires denote our longings. 
Affections grow out of emotions ; and desires grow out of 
affections. The simple emotions are often the exponents 
of physical temperament ; the affections are forms of hu- 
man love and hate ; the desires are the longings that like 
springs of action urge men into action and determine 
natural conduct. 

ZOI, 

Simple emotions are modifications of joy and sorrow. 

Simple Amotions. — Simple emotions are subjective 
emotions of joy and sorrow. Cheerfulness and melan- 
choly are examples of subjective emotions. The simple 
emotions are like a diffusion of light or darkness, warmth 
or chill, through one's own being. Their origin may be 



320 SKNSIBII.ITY. 

either instinctive or rational. An instinctive emotion is 
one not dependent on reflection, not limited to human 
mind, spontaneous phenomena, often uncontrollable and 
superior to reflection. Rational emotions are more or less 
dependent on reflection, may be directed, are less sponta- 
neous, can be found only in rational beings. Simple 
emotions, whether instinctive or rational, are simple niov- 
ings of mood and tense. [H = out of ; moveo = I move.] 

Affections are modifications of love and hate. 

Affections, — Affections are emotions, too ; but they 
are no longer simple, no longer merely subjective. Af- 
fections, as the formation of the word indicates, are feel- 
ings directed outward toward some object. This object 
may be one of love or hate. If the emotion is one of love, 
the mind sends out with the emotion a wish oi good. If 
the emotion is one of hate, the mind sends out with the 
emotion a wish of ill. From this distinction we come to 
call some affections benevolent and others malevolent. This 
is, however, not the popular sense of affection. Affections 
may also be instinctive or rational. Among the affections 
we find love of kindred, love of friends, love of benefac- 
tors, love of home and country, hatred, anger, jealousy, 
revenge, etc. 

Desires are modifications of wish and aversion. 

Desires. — Desires are natural outgrowths of love and 
hate. That which gives us joy is likely to win our love, 
and that which gives us sorrow is likely to cause hatred. 
That which we love we wish for ; that which we hate we 
are apt to avoid. The desires thus originate from a sub- 



SKNSIBII.ITY. 321 

jective condition, then become objective in their benevo- 
lence or malevolence, and finally acquire the character of 
craving or aversion. The desires are physical or rational. 
Among the desires we find those of food, exercise, rest, 
happiness, power, wealth, knowledge, companionship, etc. 
If our emotions were all subjective, we might never be 
felt by others ; if affections did not give birth to craving 
or aversion, conduct would have no impulse, no aim. 

Origins and ModiUcations, — The simple emotions 
are subjective conditions of joy and sorrow. The good 
things of life, our pleasant experiences, the excellent things 
within ourselves or round about us, these make us feel glad, 
joyous, cheerful, gay, pleased, contented. In this way 
we are cheerful because of excellence, wit and humor, nov- 
elty and variety, the sublime and the beautiful, the good 
and the right. The disagreeable things in our life, all 
the contraries of the above enumeration, make us sad, sor- 
ry, gloomy, cheerless. Some of the simple emotions are 
therefore positive ; others, negative. Some simple emo- 
tions are instinctive and others are rational. 

The affections have an objective character ; they are 
characterized by good or by ill will. We like the things 
that please us ; we dislike the things that displease us. 
Our kindred, our friends, our benefactors, our country, 
our fellow-men, our God, — these wake up within our 
hearts the good wishes called benevolent affections. Our 
enemies, our injurers, and those who seem in any way to 
take advantage of us, wake up within the hearts those evil 
wishes called malevolent affections. The affections are 
then also of a positive and of a negative character. 

Happiness, power, knowledge, possession, society, es- 
teem, etc., wake up within us the longings called desires. 
The contraries to the above enumerated things wake up 
so-called aversions. The desires are then also positive 
and negative, physical and rational. 



A. SIMPLE EMOTIONS. 

' A. INSTINCTIVE SIMPIvE KMOTIONS. 

/. CHEERFULNESS, 
204, 

Cheerfulness is a diffused joyousness, more continuous in 
youth, more rational in age, with the mission of buoyancy. 

Nature of Cheerfulness. — Cheerfulness is not al- 
ways a definite sun above our mental horizon. We feel 
the diffused joyousness, the under- current of gladness as a 
light or warmth that pervades nerve and mind ; but can 
not always give a definite reason for our joyous mood. 
Under this joyousness, this disposition to happiness, even 
the dog wags his tail, the horse erects his ears, the wood- 
man whistles, the child smiles and crows. 

Childhood and Youth, — Childhood faces are 
bright and beaming, childhood gambols are frolicsome 
and gladsome. The little body is all motion, the little 
eyes are all brightness, the facial lines are all wreaths of 
delight. When diseases, hereditary or abnormal environ- 
ments, do not govern the child-life, we expect it to be 
cheerful. The sedate, saddened, melancholy child is an 
exception ; we at once ask for the reason. Rippling 
laughter, jolly whistling, tuneful songsters, are these lit- 
tle ones. The child, the youth, the young man and mai- 
den, find life a golden garden, a precious promise, a sun- 
lit world. Who would not be a cheerful child again ? 

Cheerful Old Age, — The faces of our fathers and 
mothers, the furrowed brow of the silver-haired grand- 
mother, do not, as a rule, express so much cheerfulness. 



vS I M P I, E p; M O T I O N vS . 323 

When the aged are cheerful, we are apt to ask how it 
came that such a one could pavSS through the sorrow\s and 
storms of life and yet escape the usual tracings in figure, 
and form and features. Reflection, feebleness and a 
slighter hold upon this present world, draw the soul of 
the aged into an inner sanctum. We do not mean to say 
that the aged can not be cheerful ; but that cheerfulness 
is not a prevailing mood. In childhood, jo3^ousness is 
more continuons ; in age, it is more rational. The old 
man has a reason when he is cheerful ; his cheerfulness is 
more chided, more rational. Wit and humor, loving en- 
vironments, cheerful associations and the blessed hopes of 
immortality, still have power to bring a smile to the lips 
or a gleam to the eye. How gladly we visit the apart- 
ment of the old arm-chair when in that chair there is an 
aged cheerfulness ! An innocent and virtuous old age 
should not be any less cheerful than a buoyant youth. 

Missions of Cheerfulness. — God has diffused 
more sunlight into our life than storm and darkness ; but 
there are never-the-less many sad scenes, many cheerless 
years, many troublesome experiences. Health, youth, 
beauty, fortune, and friends, may be taken from us. It 
is the mission of cheerfulness to make life more buoyant. 
Cheerfulness encourages the despairing, points out new 
hopes, warms the cold hearts of the grief-stricken, brings 
sunlight into our homes and into the social circle, touches 
the muscles with firmness and skill, brightens the eye and 
calls forth ripples of innocent laughter. Business, daily 
toil, teaching, the bed of sickness, the home of the aged 
and all places of human occupation, are made more at- 
tractive, more winsome, more endurable when cheerful 
friends are round about us. It is a fortune when in a 
home all the members are cheerful, joyous, happy. But 
it is a misfortune to find the contrary. We can hardly 
estimate the value of cheerfulness upon literature. En- 



324 SIMPI^K K MOTIONS. 

tertainments, games, diversions, amusements and the 
drama, are outgrowths of the demand of nature to be 
cheerful. "There's a good time coming ! Help it on ! 
Help it on !" 

//. MELANCHOLY. 



205. 

Melancholy is a gloomy mood of soul, caused by depressing 
forces. Its mission is either corrective or destructive. 



The Nature of Melancholy, — Melancholy is the 
opposite to cheerfulness ; the mind often bounds from one 
to the other. We often hear persons say that it is better 
not to laugh so much lest smiles be turned to tears. The 
heart tends to free itself from melancholy. "I'm saddest 
when I sing' ' , is the confession of such a tendency. Mel- 
ancholy is a gloomy mood, a depression of spirits. Joy- 
ousness has changed into solemn inner twilight. 

Prevalence, — Melancholy is not uncommon in chil- 
dren, though it is far more common in the later years of 
manhood and womanhood, when hopes are crushed, or 
purposes buried in a nameless grave. lyike a deep shadow 
it may overwhelm the soul, blot out hope, bring in de- 
spair, glaze the eye, and set the mind on fire with wildest 
delirium. Melancholy is not so decided at all times ; its 
shadows are often dispelled by flashes of sunlight ; wit and 
humor cause its sudden rebound. The gentle Cowper 
was as humorous as he was melancholy. His "Task" 
and his "John Gilpin" are illustrative of the fact that 
melancholy is not inconsistant with humor. 

Causes of Melancholy. — Many depressing forces 
in ourselves and in our relation may make us melancholy. 
Abnormal conditions of our dodj/ make us despondent be- 
cause they make us weak. The formation of the word 



SIMPLE KMOTIONS. 325 

melancholy signifies bi,ack bilk. It was thought by the 
ancients that the liver was the main factor in producing 
melancholy. There is some truth in this theory. The 
sallow- faced, bilious man is more often melancholy than 
other men. Any abnormal conditions of the alimentary 
system, violations of hygienic laws, etc., are apt to cause 
despondency, depression of spirits, melancholy. The phys- 
ical cause of melancholy may thus become the cause of 
insanity. Over-work, exhaustion, dyspepsia, malaria, 
debauchery, intemperance and other unfortunate condi- 
tions or vices, may first cause melancholy and then insani- 
ty. We can not be too careful of such forces. Heredity 
is another cause of melancholy. If mother or father is 
melancholy, or of a despondent temperament, the child is 
almost sure to be. Poets and authors show traces of this 
in their writings. Family records, criminal records, hos- 
pital records, and observation, show how true it is that 
melancholy is often hereditary. When parentage is a 
cause of heredity, every precaution should be taken to 
avoid irritation ; every effort should be made to live in 
cheerful surroundings ; every effort should be made to 
keep the conscience pure and the body healthy. Suffer- 
ing, disappointment, intense grief, bitter affliction, may 
stun the reason, enfold it in blackness and darkness for a 
time. lyike the shadow of a calamity, the darkness may 
hang an unbroken gloom over the heart of the afflicted ; 
but when the gloom is lifted and life again runs on in its 
usual current, the soul settles into a pensive, melancholy 
mood. People who have suffered deeply will smile again ; 
but there will be a tenderness in their smile that tells of 
bitterness in the by- gone years. The drooping mother, 
the tottering father, the youth, the maiden and the child, 
may thus be touched with sadness of mood. Poets are 
often melancholy. Their pensive loneliness is the result 
of their meditative art. The poet is often in the quiet 



325 vS IMP I,EJ EMOTIONS. 

woods, in remotest nooks ; his fancy is fired and his heart 
is touched. The gentle Cowper is perhaps the best ex- 
ample we could give ; but Milton, Tennyson, and others, 
reveal in their poems a touch of sweet melancholy. 

The Mission of Melancholy, — It is the mission of 
melancholy to correct or to destroy. If the tendency to- 
ward melancholy were not a principle of heart-life, we 
should become too boisterous, too buoyant, too thought- 
less. Melancholy touches life and literature with state- 
liness, meditation, reserve and character.- Milton, Cow- 
per, Tennyson, Burdette, Bain, Irving and hundreds 
more, gain a golden mellowness through melancholy. 
But melancholy may be destructive in its effect upon self 
and others. Constant brooding, constant gloom, constant 
melancholy, tend to unsettle the mind and often end in 
thorough insanity. The saddest illustrations can be 
found. 

///. SORROW. 

206. 

Sorrow is a depression of heart, caused by loss and disappoint- 
ment. It manifests itself in violence and in silence, and treasures 
up tokens of memory. Lapse of time will wipe away tears of sor- 
row. The mission of sorrow is to balance life and to lead men 
back to God. 

Xhe Nature of Sorrow. — We know what is meant 
by the word sorrow ; it is difficult to state just what we 
mean. Sorrow is an uneasiness or pain of heart. The 
physical system is in sympathy with these emotional con- 
ditions, and the physical heart throbs in unison with the 
emotion of sorrow. Sorrow is the opposite of cheerful- 
ness. In sorrow, smiles wither upon our faces, the cheek 
blanches and furrows, the hair whitens, the hand trem- 
bles, the eyelids fall, and words are sobs. Sorrow is an 



SIMPLE EMOTIONS. 327 

instinctive emotion ; it comes previous to reflection, in 
spite of reflection, and it is not confined to rational beings. 
The most sensitive, the most loving persons are likely to 
suffer most deeply from sorrow. There are men and 
women who carry a life-long burden in their heart ; others 
rebound from their pain in a day. 

Causes of Sorrow, — The causes of sorrow are as 
manifold as are the losses and disappointments of life. 
Death, sickness, failure, disappointment of any kind, may 
cause sorrow. If it is intense, like that of mother's love, 
we call it grief — it may be anguish ; if it is less violent, 
we call it sadness. Our desires may not reach their aim ; 
happiness may leave us ; knowledge may be beyond our 
grasp ; wealth, honor, glory, comfort, may elude our eager 
search. The result is often sorrow. 

Manifestations of Sorrow. — Sorrow does not man- 
ifest itself in one way only ; it may be violent or it may 
be silent. Whether it be the one or the other depends 
upon TEMPERAMENT. The deepest sorrow is often silent 
and the slightest sorrow is often noisy, boisterous, affect- 
ed. The mourner may retire into a secret apartment to 
weep there alone. When grief first comes upon the heart, 
it is oppressive, intense, hopeless. David exclaims in his 
agony, "O Absalom, My Son ! My Son !" Mordecai lies 
at the gate in sack-cloth and ashes. Our mother wrings 
her hands, tears her hair, beats upon her heart, and reels 
in her agony. Rachel mourns more quietly ; but yet she 
mourns. A sinning multitude gathers up mementos of 
the departed ones, and every sorrowing human being 
loves to recall the virtues of the sainted dear ones. 

Sorrow Healed. — Our Father in heaven does not 
want the human heart to pine away with inconsolable sor- 
sow. We could not fill our mission, help the helpless, 
cheer the dying, if we could not emerge from our sorrows. 
No one with a real heart would forget his sorrow wholly ; 



328 SIMP IvK BMO T I ONS . 

but it is well that the cup of grief can be sweetened by 
loving hands about us. lyAPSK of timk is the great con- 
soler. We learned, when we studied the laws of associa- 
tion, that lapse of time was one reason why we forget that 
which we once knew ; the more recent has a stronger 
power than the more remote. Associations are broken by 
death. At first every item associated with the departed 
one, suggests our loss. Gradually these same items ac- 
quire a new associative linking, and each item suggests 
not only our loss but also other items. It is in this way 
that the cup of worm- wood and gall is gradually filled up 
with sweetness. "Earth has no sorrow that Heaven can 
not heal". Heaven may well denote the busy hands of 
loving friends who gather flowers and draw us away from 
ourselves into new associations. I^apse of time thus be- 
comes a most important factor in rescuing men and wom- 
en from despair and the grave. 

The Mission of Sorrow. — It is sorrow that makes 
us remember our dependence upon God. Apart from sor- 
row, the heart vaunts itself, is proud and boastful, forgets 
our Heavenly Father. Sorrow, it is true, makes life less 
buoyant, fills our cup with bitterness, causes the heart to 
throb with anguish ; but all these things are insignificant 
when compared with the final value of sorrow. The 
bondage of Egypt and the captivity of Babylon must 
make us remember our God. "Into each life some rain 
must fair ' , to teach the boasting heart that it is nothing 
apart from God. After all, this world has a great deal of 
sunshine. The pessimistic view of our world is as ab- 
surd as it is depressing. The optimist knows that every 
sorrow brings him nearer God. The great men of the 
world knew sorrow. The generals, the poets, the kings 
and queens, the warrior and the civilian, have had their 
share, but it did them good. A man is always better for 
having had some sorrow. Father, mother, teacher, pastor 



SIMPI.K AMOTIONS. 329 

and friend, have their voice and their hand touched with 
a gentle pathos when they have passed through a vale of 
tears. 

IV. SYMPATHY. 

207. 

Sympathy is an unselfish fellowship, a native contagion of 
joy or sorrow, with an angel's mission. 

The Nature of Sympathy, — The formation of the 
word indicates o. fellowship offeelmg. It is a warming of 
the heart to those about us. We laugh with those who 
laugh and weep with those who weep. The emotion is 
rather instinctive than rational ; because even the child 
and the brute can sympathize ; because we sympathize 
previous to calculation of results ; and because we sym- 
pathize in spite of reflection. 

Unsellish and Urgent Sympathy. — Sympathy 
can not be traced to self-love, because of its self-sacrificing 
devotion. The mother will suffer anything to save her 
child, her husband ; the pilot will give up all to save his 
friends and even his enemies. Men sympathize with the 
criminal and the brute. Not that we would justify the 
murder or any crime ; but that we can not keep our 
hearts from helping the culprit to bear his burden. Gui- 
teau had men's sympathy ; the vilest criminal has the 
sympathy of his kin. The strength of sympathy, its 
urgency, is something well nigh super-human. Who 
would not have sympathy ? 

Origin of Sympathy. — This emotion is a native 
principle. Joy and sorrow are contagious. Children as 
well as grown people are affected by joy and sorrow in 
others. Sometimes we are apt to imagine that we sym- 
pathize only with sorrow. While it is true that sorrow 
needs our sympatic more than joy, it is also true that we 



330 SIMPIvK KMOTIONS. 

sympathize with joy. Sorrow is more exceptional and 
thus draws our attention, just as a ragged prodigal would 
attract the attention of a brilliant circle. Joy is self-sus- 
taining ; sorrow needs support. For this reason we are 
more ready to be in sympathy with sorrow. But surely 
this were a selfish world if we could never be glad and re- 
joice when others do. Consciousness affirms that we are 
glad when our fellowman is fortunate : we rejoice with 
those who rejoice ; we congratulate our friends ; we love 
to converse with those who are happy. It surely is a sad 
confession for au}^ man when he must admit that he is 
07ily envio2is, only jealous at the success of a classmate, a 
neighbor. 

Missions of Sympathy. — It is the mission of sym- 
pathy to bind up broken hearts, to help our brother bear 
his burden, to teach all men to shake hands, to prevent 
undue punishment and to alleviate suffering. Sympathy 
surely is the most unselfish emotion that wakes up in 
the great heart of humanity. God himself is the highest 
pattern of sympath}^ It was sympathy that bound up 
the wounds of the despised Samaritan ; that sent the af- 
flicted people of Johnstown hope and help ; that brought 
us Kosciusko and Lafayette. Sympathy gives the beggar 
a cup of coffee and a piece of bread ; sympathy cools the 
brow and takes the feeble hand of the sick, the infirm, 
the aged ; sympathy kneels by the side of the dying 
Hessian and gives him Washington's blessing ; .sympathy 
binds the aged couple closer every day ; and, when the 
cords of life are snapped in one life, the other begs the 
angel of death to go with the former through the valley 
of the shadow of death. Sympathy erects hospitals, 
orphan homes, soldiers' homes, almshouses ; it sends 
the afflicted material and spiritual aid. When sympathy 
is .schooled in Holy Writ and sanctified b}^ self-devotion, 
it is the noblest attribute of love. It is not fear, but 



S I MP I.E KMOTIONS . 331 

sympathy that fills the hearts of them that are saved 
through the crucified One. 

B. RATIONAL SIMPI^E EMOTIONS. 

Rational I^imitations, — The rational emotions, as 
has been remarked, depend on reflection, on rational per- 
ception. All rational emotions presuppose consciousness 
of self, fair intelligence, sanity and some degree of cul- 
ture. The idiot is not remarkable for enjoyment of self- 
excellence, of the Aesthetic, and of the Ethical. The 
brute knows nothing of self-excellence, wit and humor, 
knows nothing of the aesthetic, nothing of the ethical. 
The savage or the illiterate person appreciates but little of 
what constitutes the so-called rational emotions. The ra- 
tional emotions are those of self-excellence, of the aesthetic, 
and the ethical. 

/. ENJOYMENT OF SELF-EXCELLENCE. 
208. 

Enjoyment of self-excellence arises from a comparison, and in 
its humbler mission teaches man to look beyond. 

209. 

Enjoyment of self-excellence, in the perverted forms of pride, 
vanity, conceit and arrogance, is purely contemptible. 

The Nature of Self-Excellence, — The real or 
fancied possession of things agreeable and desirable in 
ourselves gives us pleasure ; the absence of these gives us 
pain. This emotion is therefore a modification of jo}^ or 
sorrow. The ego is the topic of contemplation. 

JteiMS. -Self- excellence includes such things as strength, 
beauty, wealth, social rank, position, profession, honor, 
talent, reputation, power, growth, culture, etc. It in- 
15 



332 SIMPI.K EMOTIONS. 

eludes anything physieal, mental, or moral, that may be 
desii'able or agreeable. The possession of such things may 
be real or fancied. All the modifications of this enjoy- 
ment seem to arise from a rational comparison either with 
others or with self. 

Origin of the Enjoyment of ^Excellence,— 
The mind makes a comparison ; we may compare a for- 
mer self with a latter self, or we may compare the excel- 
lence of self with that of others. The result is a kind of 
enjoyment. A man may find, on comparing, that he has 
grown, progressed, gained, acquired ; and the thing 
pleases him. He may find that in a number of things he 
is blessed beyond the lot of his fellows. Whether this 
enjoyment is culpable or not, will depend upon the mood 
and motive of the one who enjoys. Such a comparison 
may leap beyond the true, may over-estimate or under- 
estimate the excellence found in self. A proper estimate 
of self-excellence gives rise to humiIvITy and ski.f-rk- 
SPKCT ; an over-estimate gives rise to vanity, conceit, 
ARROGANCE and PRIDE ; an under-estimate gives rise 
to SERVII.ITY and fawning. 

The Proper Mission: Humility and Self- 
Respect, — Humility and self-respect are elements of no- 
bility and greatness. These emotions never cause over- 
elation and affectation. The humble man pursues the 
even tenor of his way ; and, though he knows he has made 
progress or that he has acquired that which is desirable 
and agreeable, he never is anything but a plain, genuine 
man, a man after God's own will. Humility in its genu- 
ine form is a noble attribute ; it ever looks beyond. 
Present attainments afford such a man enjoyment ; but he 
never compares himself with a past self Looking beyond, 
he beholds a vast ocean or a stupendous mountain of unac- 
complished missions. The retrospective view encourages, 
and the forward look places before him a beau ideal 



SIMPI.KKMOTIONS. 333 

towards which he strains. "Not as though I had already 
attained," are the words of a noble model. Self-respect 
is never cringing, never fawning, never slavish, or undig- 
nified ; but it recognizes the high injunction of nature 
and revelation that man must love himself. Even the 
good Book tells us to love our neighbor as we love oiirself. 
If we are made in the image of the living God, it is our 
highest duty to have self-respect. Self-respect never dies 
a criminal or a pauper. 

Perverted Porms. — Pridk is the typical name for 
the enjoyment of self -excellence, when that enjoyment 
arises from over -estimation. The proud man is known 
by distinctive marks. If he is simply proud and has good 
sense and high honor, he will not attract attention or give 
oifense. Withdrawing into the inner sanctum of his own 
high worth, he will not deign to stoop to any indignity. 
Though this form of pride is not so offensive, it is never- 
the-less reprehensible in the sight of God. The caterpillar 
need not thus plume himself when he becomes a butterfly. 
Human excellence is never the pure result of human pru- 
dence or of human desert. God o-lves as well as takes. 

When pride is connected with simpleness, it assumes the 
form of VANITY. Vanity lives on display. The vain 
man must try to shine, his house must be conspicuous, 
his voice must be heard, his attainments must be an- 
nounced to the world with a trumpet, his position or so- 
cial rank must be recognized and respected. In its ex- 
treme forms, vanity makes what we know as the dude, 
and his sister. When the enjoyment of self-excellence 
assumes such disgusting forms, it is indicative of idiocy 
and deserves the unbounded contempt of men. 

Conceit is another form of pride. The conceited man 
always carries diplus sign wherever men can see it. Dis- 
play may be a feature of conceit, and then conceit par- 
takes of vanity. The conceited man "knows it all" be- 



334 SIMPLE EMOTIONS. 

forehand, never laughs at a joke unless he cracks it him- 
self, brags and boasts of his powers, is disappointed when 
he fails to secure compliments, desires to be courted, 
petted, fondled, obeyed. The conceited man is never very 
docile, knows more than his father, has seen more than 
his grandfather. The conceited man is known by his 
swaggering gait, his foppish mien, his disgusting boast. 
As a rule, his voice is loud with criticism and his heart is 
filled with gall, vinegar, and wormwood. 

Arrogance is still another form of pride. It is known 
by its moroseness and its contempt for others. The ar- 
rogant man fears to tarnish his high-born dignity, salutes 
with a cold stiffness, spurns inferiority, despises wit and 
humor, often lacks aesthetic sensitiveness and towers in 
a majestic inner worthiness above his fellows. 

SHRViiyiTY 'A.n& fawning are perhaps the most disgust- 
ing of all forms of self-respect. Servility cringes, and 
kneels, and salutes in obsequious obedience to the nod 
and beck of those it imitates or wishes to conciliate. 

//. ENJOYMENT OF THE LUDICROUS. 

Enjoyment of the ludicrous arises from the perception of in- 
congruity under new and unexpected relations. 

Nature of the I^udicrous, — By the ludicrous, we 
mean that which is laughable. We enjoy the ludicrous ; 
but the enjoyment depends upon a ratio7ial perception. 
The brute, the idiot, the dullard, are not noted for their 
appreciation of the ludicrous. Enjoyment of the ludi- 
crous arises from the perception of incongruity under 
NEW and unexpected reIvATions. By incongruous re- 
lations we mean unsuitable situations or unsuitable juxta- 
positio7is. The mind is so constituted that new and un- 



SIMPLK K MOTIONS. 335 

expected relations cause surprise. Surprise caused by in- 
congruous relations awakens corresponding enjoyment in 
the emotional nature. The unexpected relations may 
occur between objects or ideas ; and the grouping may be 
either accidental or intentional, kindly or unkindly. A 
dandy stretched at full length across a banana peel, and 
congratulations to the fallen man, are alike ludicrous. 
Blunder and satire, sarcastic wit and gentle humor, are 
all adapted to wake up enjoyment of the ludicrous. The 
effects of the ludicrous are surprise, laughter, and activity. 
The wide open eye, the upward lines of the face, and the 
clownish contortions of the jester or the trickster, are evi- 
dences that men enjoy the ludicrous. 

The principal forms of the ludicrous are tricks, jesting, blun- 
der, pun, burlesque, mock-heroic, satire, and sarcasm. 

bricks. — School days and companionship are forever 
impressed upon memory through the vivid enjoyment of 
fun, jokes and tricks. Tricks, jokes and fun may be witty 
or humorous. If smartness and sarcasm are prominent, 
we speak of wit ; but if intelligence and kindliness abound, 
we speak of humor in fun, tricks and jokes. The school 
boy and the school girl will rack their brain to invent an 
amusing game, a jolly joke, an innocent trick. It is 
needless to enumerate all the capers of holidays and 
chum-ships. 

Jesting. — Kings and queens had their hired jesters, 
communities have their dntt of fun, the world has its cir- 
cus c/ozan and its comedy. All these forms are expressions 
of the incongruous relations that touch our heart with joy. 

Blunder, — Blunder is an iinintentional grouping of 
incongruous objects or ideas. Blunder is a most amusing 



336 SIMPIvK EMOTIONS. 

form of the ludicrous. The portly gentleman with his 
high silk hat, steps with grace and dignity across the foot- 
bridge ; the wind may blow and the hat may go, the wig 
may follow and the coat-tails too. Who would not laugh a 
tiny laugh, so long as no harm was done ? Awkwardness 
of speech, uncalled-for blushing, unpolished gait, etc., 
may illustrate blunder in objects or situations. Blunder 
in ideas is common, and it is thoroughly enjoyable. The 
Irishman who, on being reduced to a horizontal position 
by the elastic rebound of a branch across a wood-path, 
congratulated his companion for holding on to the branch 
so long and thus saving himself from being killed, illus- 
trates the character of blunder. The remark that bache- 
lors are ''born so'' is in point. From the nature of knowl- 
edge we derive the principle : "In the physical sciences, 
causes and laws should be taught before scientific classifi- 
cation''. The student who gravely repeats this principle, 
"In the physical sciences, causes and laws should be 
taught before scientific sanctification," stares at a giggling 
class with wide amazement. The more innocent and un- 
conscious such a blunder, the more amusing. The inno- 
cence may be assumed; a good imitation serves as well as 
the genuine. Blunders are more numerous than perfec- 
tions. 

Pun, — Pun is a form of wit or humor in which incon- 
gruous relations are expressed in a word or phrase. Pun- 
ning is a very common form of the ludicrous and deserves 
just contempt when it becomes a regular occupation. The 
mere punster is a bore. No one feels easy in his presence, 
and he himself is likely to dig his own grave. There may 
be an occasional use for punning ; but it should be spar- 
ingly indulged in. 

Burlesque, — Burlesque is a witty effort to debase the 
great and imposing by undignified descriptio7t and by the 
use of epithets that provoke laughter. Comedy often 



SIMPI.K AMOTIONS. 337 

partakes of burlesque. Butler and Swift will afford 
amusement to those who wish to study burlesque. 

Mock- Heroic. — Mock-heroic is a witty effort to pro- 
voke laughter by dignified description of insignificant 
things. "The Mountain and the Squirrel" is an illus- 
tration. 

Satire and Sarcasm, — Satire and sarcasm are witty 
efforts to provoke laughter at the follies and foibles of men. 
Juvenal, Horace, Thackeray, Swift and others, made 
satire an effective weapon against the follies of Rome and 
England. Satire often is better than direct argument ; in 
its prudent application, the teacher and pastor may cure 
their flocks of "rough-corners" and superstitions. Sar- 
casm is the more biting species of satire, and may cause 
indignation in the person held up to ridicule. The 
world's dread laugh is often a better cure for silly fashions 
and awkwardness than anything else. 

New and unexpected relations of incongruity do not afford en- 
joyment when higher considerations enter the perception. 

Higher Considerations. — A falling window, the 
discovery that diamonds and carbon were identical, the 
death of a friend, may be thoroughly unexpected; our 
surprise may be intense ; but fear, scientific importance, 
and compassion over-shadow the ludicrous. We may en- 
joy the discomfiture of a companion as long as he receives 
no harm ; but when he seems to suffer or to die from the 
discomfiture, laughter is turned to weeping. 

Enjoyment of the ludicrous, within proper limits, adds buoy- 
ancy to life and emphasis to talent or power. 



338 S I M P I. E EMOTIONS. 

A Mission : Buoyancy and Emphasis, — Wit 

and humor are like sauce to mental digestion. Instruc- 
tion, seasoned with humor, becomes more palatable. The 
teacher, preacher and orator that lack wit and humor, 
are merely talented "dry-sticks." Objectionable man- 
nerisms, awkwardness of mind and body, may be cured 
by judicious wit and humor. The world's dread laugh 
will check men and women in their wild follies and foibles. 
Home will be more cheerful when humor dwells there ; 
companionship acquires a congenial tone that delights 
every body. Society touched by humor is a mental 
feast. Talent and power are emphasized b}^ wit and hu- 
mor. It is said that the world's great men were full of 
enjoyment of the ludicrous. Sydney Smith, a great 
wit himself, writes beautifully as follows : "I have talked 
of the danger of wit ; I do not mean by that to enter into 
common place declamation against faculties, because they 
are dangerous ; wit is dangerous, eloquence is dangerous, 
a talent for observation is dangerous, every thing is dan- 
gerous that has energy and vigor for its charateristics ; 

nothing is safe but mediocrit}^ But when 

wit is combined with sense and information ; when it is 
softened by benevolence, and restrained by strong princi- 
ple ; when it is in the hands of a man who can use it and 
despise it, who can be witty and something much better 
than witty, who loves honor, justice, decency, good na- 
ture, morality, and religion ten thousand times better than 
wit ; wit is then a beautiful and delightful part of our 
nature. ' ' 

Depravity of Wit, — Apart from the nobility of 
character and intelligence referred to by Sydney Smith, 
wit is surely a delusion worse confounding. The punster, 
the mere wit, will trample upon holy things, mock at 
prayer, cast slurs upon God's word, turn into sacrilegious 
buffoonery everything sacred to the human mind. It is 



SlMPtE e: MOTIONS. 339 

not an unfrequent thing to find the atheist witty, and to 
find the sceptic cause his Christian friend to blush for 
shame under the indignities heaped upon his loving Master. 

///. ENJOYMENT OF NOVELTY AND VARIETY. 

214. 

Enjoyment of novelty and variety is a pleasurable emotion that 
brings relief from monotony, and draws us beyond ourselves. 

Enjoyment of Novelty and Variety, — Novelty 
and variety are terms opposed to monotony and custom. 
This form of joy is also rational rather than instinctive, 
because it depends upon rational perception. The emo- 
tion is always dependent on surprise. Surprise caused by 
novelty and variety is nearly always pleasing. It is true 
that the news of some great calamity seems to be painful ; 
but this is hardly true. It is true that calamity itself is a 
painful thing to know ; but the news thereof is not for 
this reason also painful. We are not glad of the death of 
a friend, but we are glad to hear the news. We would be 
disappointed to find that the friend had been buried before 
we learned of it. The prevailing character of surprise de- 
cides the character of the emotion awakened by novelty 
and variety. 

How Aw aliened, — We infer the future from the 
present. Our inference is a linking of expectations. When 
this chain is broken, the imexpected novelty pleases the 
mind. The more strange this break may be, the more in- 
tense will be the surprise and enjoyment. The mj^sterious, 
the remarkable, the utterlj^ strange, touch head and heart 
with wonder and amazenie^it. 

Mission : Relief and Impulse, — Surprise through 
novelty and variety, is a kind of alarm that calls our ener- 
gies into action ; it relieves the ordinary monotonv of 

15* 



340 SIMPIvK EMOTIONS. 

daily duty and daily occupation. Enjoyment of novelty 
and variety leads children and mature adults beyond ear- 
ly aims. The aim may have satisfied for a time ; but the 
heart became uneasy, restless, urgent. Curiosity surely 
is one of the strong principles in progress and attainment. 
The naturalist, the traveler, the student, the inventor, all 
living souls, are urged forward by this principle. 

Perverted Mnjoyinent. — When enjoyment of nov- 
elty and variety becomes so urgent as to under- value 
truth, beauty and duty ; when it leads to neglect in school 
or life ; when it makes woman a flitting butterfly and 
man a shiftless vagabond, f/ien it becomes ridiculous. The 
effort to introduce novelty and variety into every lesson, 
into every exercise, into every duty, into every custom, 
into every relation of life, is to be heartily condemned ; 
since it tends to unfit men in the performance of the ordi 
nary. 

Ennui is an emotional uneasiness caused by monotony, and it 
is designed to be an urgent impulse. 

MnnuL — The term ennui denotes the opposite to sur- 
prise. It is not a pleasurable emotion ; it is an uneasi- 
ness of heart ; under it we fret and grow restive. Monot- 
ony in school, in duty, in scenery, in environments, is 
likely to cause ennui. A straight road, an oft repeated 
story, an oft repeated song, a continued household duty, 
never ending occupation, a lengthy sermon or speech, a 
continuance of unpleasant weather, a long illness, and a 
thousand other similar items, are likely to make us uneasy. 
We want a change now and then. Apart from this emo- 
tional capacity, men would not continue to acquire, prog- 
ress would cease, the easy chair would be the ideal place. 
Ennui helps us to avoid surfeit. Knowing that monoto- 



SIMPLE AMOTIONS. 341 

ny is likely to cause surfeit, we learn to avoid monotony 
in our relations with other men. Knnui moves the world, 
drives the drones into the workshop, rescues the body 
from physical decay and the mind from rust. Ennui is an 
emotional spur that drives us, and that warns us when we 
weary by the way-side. 

Depravity of MnnuL — While there is a noble mis- 
sion for ennui, it may become our worst enemy. Too 
much ennui is ridiculous. The man who can not endure 
his own fireside environments, who wearies of the faces 
and voices of teacher, pastor, and friend, is making a fool of 
himself. The man or woman who cannot be happy un- 
less he is ever moving, will be a roving nomadin a civ- 
ilized world. The business man, the student, that can not 
persevere under the pressure of years and patient toil ; 
that shifts from one occupation to another ; that makes 
new departures every year, is a curse to himself, a disap- 
pointment to his friends, and a slur on creation. God did 
not mean to make us restless wanderers when he made us 
uneasy under monotony. We must never yield so much 
to this tendency as to disgust us with duty, truth and 
goodness. He who would reap the harvest of a patient 
continuance in well-doing, must look upon cnmii as a dis- 
turber of his peace, as an evil impulse to be mastered. 

IV. ENJOYMENT OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

Enjoyment of the beautiful is an immediate emotion of calm 
admiration, dependent upon a cognition of the beautiful. 

Nature of This Emotion. — No man doubts that 
he is adapted to enjoy the beautiful. In addition to the 
intellectual perception of things beautiful, in addition to 
the intuitive concept of what constitutes the beautiful, 



342 SIMPLEEMOTIONS. 

in addition to the rational estimation of the beautiful, the 
mind also enjoys the beautiful by emotional capacity. The 
emotion of admiration felt in the presence of the beauti- 
ful is CAI.M and soothing. The emotion puts us to rest, 
makes us feel at peace, lulls us into lightness of heart, 
wins our sympathy, charms us into love. We are thus 
led to seek the beautiful, we regret to part with it, are at 
peace with nature and the world. 

If now we inquire of consciousness and experience 
whether this emotion is a spring of action, we shall find 
a proof in the effort of men to adorn themselves and their 
abiding places ; in the eifort to create ideals ; in the poem ; 
in the statue ; in the portrait ; in the oration ; in the fig- 
ures of rhetoric. 

The beautiful has its opposite ; we call it the UGiyV. 
This rouses within our heart the emotion of disgust. Dis- 
gust is an uneasiness, a restlessness. It proves that we 
enjoy the beautiful. The beautiful charms us, wins us ; 
but the ugly disgusts us, drives us away. The beautiful 
lights up our countenance, thrills the nerves, calms and 
rests us ; but the ugly brings a frown upon our face and a 
burden upon the heart. The beautiful music, the flower- 
et, the poem, grace and elegance, lift the shadows from 
our inner life ; weary hearts are rested ; troubled breasts 
are made to feel at home. 

Origin of the Mmotion. — Enjoyment of the beau- 
tiful does not depend upon reflection or volition. The emo- 
tion of admiration is spontaneous, immediate, instantane- 
ous, whenever we catch the essence of something beauti- 
ful. Elegance of color and form, delicacy of complexion, 
symmetrj^of form, grace of motion, and all the visible me- 
diums through which the beautiful is revealed to us, ap- 
peal primarily to sense-perception, and suggest the soul of 
the beautiful to intuition. As soon as we thus cognise 
Ifhe beautiful J the calm emotio7i of admiration follows, 



vSIMPIvK AMOTION vS. 343 

The child and the man have the same experience. The emo- 
tion never precedes sense-perception, experience ; but it does 
precede reflection. Indeed, in reflections of the art critic, 
habitual association with the beautiful may e?ifeeble the 
emotion of admiration. "Familiarity breeds contempt", 
contains an atom of truth when applied to the emotional 
appreciation of the beautiful. That the emotion of admi- 
ration is immediate, appears also from the fact that we ex- 
perience it on our first perception of anything beautiful. 
If we actually 7xcognize the beautiful as expressed in any 
forms, the emotion of enjoyment comes to us atonce^ with- 
out volition. 

V. ENJOYMENT OF THE SUBLIME. 

Enjoyment of the sublime is an immediate emotion of intense 
and awful admiration, dependent upon a cognition of the sublime. 

Nature of This Smotion. — This emotion is apleas- 
ureable feeling like that produced by the beautiful ; but 
differs in many essential respects. While it is immediate 
and involuntary, it is so intense as to become oppressive, 
so intense as to subdue, so intense as to captivate. This 
emotion awakened by the sublime prompts us to compare 
ourselves with the infinite, and in the comparison we are 
azued by oppressive power. We feel our insignificance, 
our helplessness, our feebleness. The vastness of mid- 
ocean, the majestic power of the mountain storm, the aw- 
fulness of infinite solitude, the irresistible volume of the 
roaring Niagara plunging over that immense precipice, 
agitate us, fill us with awful astonishment, oppress us 
with an amazing restlessness, captivate us into a fierce 
sympathy with the manifestations of the infinite. We 
stand in holy reverence of the Almighty. 



344 simpi.:e) K]V|:otions. 

Distinctions, — The enjoyment of the sublime differs 
from the enjoyment of the beautiful as these themselves 
differ in essence. The brooklet rippling over the pebbles, 
touched by the water-lily, sparkling in the sunlight, 
makes us feel the bkauTifui. ; the rushing river, winding 
in voluminous torrents, hurrying over rugged breakers, 
plunging over stupendous precipices, makes us feel the 
SUBiviMK. We are by these manifestations of the sublime 
brought into the grasp of approaching infinity. These 
differences are not differences of degree, but of kind. We 
can not measure the difference with a human measure. 
The outward, visible mediums of manifestation we may 
estimate ; but the invisible essence lies beyond our vision. 
When the beautiful and the sublime are associated and in- 
terwoven, as in Glen Onoko or Niagara, we experience an 
emotion of intense admiration. The beautiful tempers 
the sublime ; the sublime elevates and enobles the beauti- 
ful. A Swiss sun-rise is both beautiful and sublime. The 
roseate light, the evanescence and delicacy of the display 
are beautiful ; but the instantaneous flashes from peak to 
peak, the majestic calmness of Mt. Blanc, hoary with snowy 
ages and unmoved by these flashes, bring us into the pres- 
ence of the sublime. 

Enjoyment of the beautiful brings pure delight and rest ; but en- 
joyment of the sublime brings an elevating agitation. 

Missions. — Amid the strife and turmoil of life, we 
could never be at rest, could never know earthly peace ; 
but God has made this world beautiful to help us. Har- 
mony of color and motion, the waving grain, the rippling 
streams, lovely music, etc., have charms for every one. 
The enjoyment of the sublime elevates our aims, writes 
in bold letters upon our hearts, "It is possiblk". The 



SIMPLKKMOTIONS. 345 

vastness and power that touch us in the sublime, touch 
us with the infinite. We may feel our feebleness, confess 
our insignificance, but this only sets the heart on fire with 
the oxygen of the sublime. Activity, energy, and pursuit 
enter our nerves with an urgent thrill ; we throb and trem- 
ble at the thought of what is possible. That man who is 
no longer to be touched by the beautiful and the sublime, 
surely stands upon dangerous ground ; but that man who, 
though depraved and demoralized, responds in his heart 
to the touch of the beautiful and the sublime, may yet be 
brought to reverence God. 

2;ig. 

The accurate adaptation of our environments to our aesthetic 
nature, urges the culture of aesthetic enjoyment. 

Culture of Aesthetic Enjoyment, — Kvery sun- 
ny hill-side, every dewy meadow, every flower and every 
warbling bird, the sunrise and the sunset, the sighing 
zephyrs, the glens and water- falls, the sweet spring blos- 
soms and the golden autumn colors, are the voice of the 
beautiful. We might have been endowed with such an 
emotional nature as would feel disgust in the presence of 
what we now call beautiful ; but, endowed as we are, the 
perfection of our environments argues that God intends us 
to love the beautiful and the sublime. All the voices of 
the sublime and the beautiful are to appeal to the heart as 
well as to the head. We may trample upon these emo- 
tions, suppress them, slight them, neglect them ; but it 
must be wrong to do so. Children admire the beautiful, 
and mature manhood creates the beautiful and sublime in 
art. This capacity denotes a mission. If we neglect it, 
our nature is violated, we miss a thousand pure delights, 
we creep like a silly worm, and refuse the most invigorat- 
ing oxygen that God has breathed into the universe. 



34^ SIMPLK EJMOTIONS. 

IV. ENJOYMENT OF THE RIGHT. 

220. 

Enjoyment of the right is a sustaining emotion of surpassing 
satisfaction, dependent upon the approval of conscience. 

Nature of This Amotion, — In addition to our in- 
tuitive cognitions of Right, Obligation and Estimation ; 
in addition to the tribunal decisions of conscience, our 
moral nature is capable of emotions that become powerful 
springs of action. Perhaps a merely intellectual moral 
nature would never urge men to volition or to action. 
Constituted as we are, the decisions of conscience are fol- 
lowed by definite feeling of satisfaction or dissatisfaction. 
If a man does what he ought to do, his heart will be filled 
with a SUSTAINING JOYOUSNBSS, a sustaining courage, 
the courage of conviction. When conscience approves of 
merit in ourselves, the approval is followed by an emotion 
of surpassing satisfaction. The courts of earthly justice 
may condemn to the block, fanaticism and persecution 
may invent the rack and the stake, danger may make the 
post of duty a seething mass of torment, demons in human 
form may tempt the soul with the sweets of sin, and pub- 
lic opinion may disown the doers of right ; but none of 
these things nor all combined can crush the heart when 
in the right. 

Universal Pleasure of a Good Conscience, — 

The sustaining emotion of moral satisfaction is universal. 
Childhood and age, the ignorant and the wise, the Hea- 
then and the Christian, the powerful and the weak, the 
warrior and the statesman, — -every nmn fec/s the pleasure 
of a good conscience. With the still small voice of con- 
science in our soul, we lie down to pleasant dreams and 
go down into the shadows of death, fearing no evil ; 
for God will keep us. His rod and his staif will comfort 



SIMPLE EMOTIONS. 347 

US. Reputation, wealth, friends, honor, life, all may be 
taken from us ; but if we /<"<?/ that conscience approves of 
our conduct, the world may scorn, riches may take wings, 
reputation may be taken from us, friends may leave us, 
and 3^et we shall live or die with a song of praise upon 
our lips. 

A Mighty Impulse to Right Conduct— Un^oy- 
ment of right is a spring of action. Under its impulse 
William Wallace was an avenger of his country's wrongs, 
led his Scottish armies into the battles of freedom, braved 
the assassin's dagger, scorned the oppressor's dictates, 
and offered his life, his all, upon the altar of his country ; 
under the sustaining impulse of a good conscience, the 
martyrs, frail women and tender children as well as mus- 
cular giants, did not fear to confess their convictions, 
though to confess meant the rack and the stake and the 
horrible inquisition ; under the impulse of a good con- 
science, Leonidas held the pass at Thermopylae against 
insurmountable myriads, and died covered with blood and 
defeat ; under the impulse of a good conscience, lyUther 
went to Worms, was true to his conviction and though the 
multitude of his accusers was like an overwhelming 
storm, he braved the fury of corrupted hierarchy and rag- 
ing enemies. "Here I stand ; I can not do otherwise ; God 
help me," said he. Under the impulse of a good con- 
science, men and women are happy in their daily duties. 
Every man knows something of temptation, knows some- 
thing of defeat, knows something of the world's dread 
laugh ; but when conscience approves, his heart will thrill 
with delight. 

Origin of This Uniotion, — Enjoyment of the 
right depends upon the approval of conscience. In other 
words, an intellectual cognition, an intellectual estimation 
precedes, and this emotion of satisfaction follows. The 
emotion is triply complex, depending upon the three-fold 



348 SIMPI^K E5MOTIONS. 

moral cognitions of Right, Obligation and Kstimation. 
Cultivation of this emotion is our duty ; obedience, prompt 
obedience, is the sure means of culture. 

Remorse, an emotion of intense bitterness, dependent on the 
condemning voice of conscience, fills the guilty soul with eter- 
nal torment. 

Nature of Remorse. — This emotion is the opposite 
of moral satisfaction. When a man does wrong and his 
conscience condemns him as a guilty wretch, a huge wave 
of anguish and agony rolls over his emotional nature ; his 
body trembles, his countenance assumes a deadly pallor, 
his eye burns in its socket and his heart heaves under a 
racking burden. There is no escape from this pursuing 
demon of remorse ; its awful voice of accusation, its ghost- 
like moan, its eternal presence, hang over the soul like a 
shadowy doom, increasing in blackness and horror as the 
soul passes from mortal confines into the dread beyond. 

In the Dread Beyond. — Human tribunals my fail 
to condemn ; but the still small voice of the present w^orld 
will swell into a loud roar of accusation when the soul is 
placed into the vastness and the stillness of eternity. The 
clock on our mantel seems to tick so gently through the 
day, that its tick is hardly heard ; but in the depth of 
night, in that awful stillness, the clock-tick seems like a 
majestic sledge-hammer tick. Thus it may be with the 
still small voice of conscience. In this world and in the 
next, the emotion of remorse must be torment itself If 
our personal identity can not be lost, remorse will con- 
tinue to rest upon a guilty soul ; eternally cumulative 
agony will seem to crush out the soul, and yet the soul 
must endure, must exist under the flaming of eternal tor- 
ment, the torment of a never dying conscience, the tor- 
ment of tribunal accusation augmented a million fold by 



SIMPI.B EMOTIONS. 349 

this emotion of remorse. ThivS emotion is tripl}^ complex 
when logically considered, dependent upon the three cog- 
nitions of conscience and its judgments ; but experienti al- 
ly considered, we need not separately discuss these. They 
all merge into the intense emotion of remorse, just as all 
the emotions of right moral action merge into the one in- 
tense emotion of moral satisfaction. 

Intense Bitterness. — Under the pursuit of remorse, 
lady Mar seemed to leave this world with the breath of 
hell upon her heart ; under it, the murderer groans and 
cries out with unbearable anguish ; under the terrors of re- 
morse, the Grecian Orestes fled from the Furies, — bleed- 
ing he fled, with bulging eyes and burning brain and 
trembling body ; but remorse gave him no escape, it 
maddened his brain, and dragged his soul into perdition. 

Enjoyment of right is God's loving voice sustaining weary hu- 
man hearts when faithful to Him. Remorse is God's voice of 
justice, warning reckless hearts when led astray. 

Missions : Voice of Warning and of l/ove,— 

The conduct of the world shows how sustaining is the en- 
joyment of right. Apart from this emotion, men might 
know the right, and yet not be prompted to do the right ; 
apart from the emotion of moral satisfaction, men might 
know what God wanted of them ; but there would be 
nothing to serve as an impulse to action, nothing to 
counteract the depressing effects of the world's crooked 
justice. Apart from the emotion of remorse, men might 
knoiv the wrong ; but there would be nothing to keep 
them from reckless disobedience. Remorse checks this 
recklessness, warns the sinner in his wanderings, drives 
him back to God. The most terrible thought is this, 
that remorse can never be crushed or sHghted. For a 
while, the daring heart may drown remorse in the activi- 



350 S I M P Iv K K M O T I O N S . 

ties and pleasures of sin ; but, in due time, the emotion 
must augment into such intensity as to wreck the soul's 
hopes and happiness. 



B. AFFECTIONS. 

The cause of a simple emotion naturally becomes the object 
of love or hate. Thus originate the affections. 

Origin of the Affections. — Cheerfulness is a sim- 
ple emotion. If the cause of cheerfulness in a given 
case is music, this music naturally becomes the object of 
love. Thus originate the affections. In this way we 
come to love kindred, friends, benefactors, country, man- 
kind and God. Thus also originate resentment, hatred, 
envy, jealousy, revenge. The formation of the word affec- 
tion denotes a striving toward some object. The affections 
are, therefore, both subje^ctivk and objkctivk. While 
simple emotions are modifications of joy and sorrow, the 
affections are modifications of love and hate. These dis- 
tinctions lead us to a classification. 

CIassi£cation of Affections, — Affections that wzs/i 
something ^6>^^ to the object of love, are called benevo- 
lent ; affections that wish something <?2^z7 to the object of 
kate are called mai^evoIvEnt. All the benevolent affec- 
tions are forms of love modified by the object toward 
which the love is directed ; all malevolent affections are 
forms of hate modified by the object toward which the 
hatred is directed. A vast amount of life is touched and 
moulded by the benevolent and malevolent affections. 

The benevolent affections are love of kindred, love of friends, 
love of benefactors, love of country, love of mankind, and love of 
God. 



352 AFF:eCTlONS. 

Enumeration of Benevolent Affections, — It is 

believed that the above enumeration is comprehensive of 
all forms of the benevolent affections. lyOve of kindred 
includes parental love, filial love, fraternal love, and love 
of relatives. Parental love is the love of a parent to 
the child ; 'filial love is the love of sons and daughters 
to their parents ; and fraternal love is the love of chil- 
dren to each other. lyOve of kindred may be called fam- 
ily-love ; love of friends is cqIIqA friends hip ; love of bene- 
factors is called gratitude ; love of country is called patri- 
otism ; love of mankind is C3\\q:& philanthropy ; and love of 
God is called piety. The six forms are comprehensive. 
The circle of benevolence increases in diameter as we pro- 
ceed from kindred to God. Pie^ty is Thk highkst i,ov:^. 

The malevolent affections are especially resentment, envy, jeal- 
ousy and revenge. 

Enumeration of Malevolent Affections, — The 

enumeration is not complete, unless we state that all the 
oppo sites of the benevolent affections are called malevole^it. 
These malevolent affections also vary with the object 
toward which the hatred is directed. 

2iz6, 

An affection becomes a passion when it moves the soul toward 
an object with impulse beyond control. 

Origin and Character of a Passion, — The word 
passion denotes suffering. The love for some object may 
be so intense as to unbalance the proper relation of 
thought, feeling and volition. Any benevolent, any 
malevolent affection, may become a passion. When the be- 
nevolent affections become passions, they are not always to 
be condemned ; we often sympathize with such lofty pas- 
sion. The malevolent passions are too gross, too demon- 
like, too terrific to win our sympathy. When affections 



AFFKCTIONS. 353 

become passions, they drive the soul through the storm, 
through the waves, through the shadowy gloom ; like a 
little boat, the soul lies a wreck upon the merciless ocean. 
The rudder is gone, the helmsman is pulled over-board, 
the boat is drifting, lurching, sinking. The passions 
may change a man into a reckless beast that knows no 
consideration except the fierce suffering that burns out his 
soul. In its less appalling force, passion constitutes, the 
life-struggle of a myriad hosts of sorrowing human creat- 
ures. When love of kindred becomes a passion, it may 
make a slave of father, mother, son and daughter. When 
love of friends becomes a passion, it may lead to suicide, 
vice, and degradation ; or it may lead to devotion, virtue 
and intense humiliation. When love of benefactors becomes 
a passion, it will offer the last farthing, the last drop of 
blood to rescue a comrade, it will lead to melancholy, de- 
spondency, and insanity. When love of country becomes a 
passion, it will fight for the dear old flag though home 
and friends and life be the sacrifice. When love of man- 
kind becomes a passion, it will sacrifice rank, fortune, 
wealth, ease and life to make others happy, to relieve the 
suffering, and to care for the dying. When love of God 
becomes a holy passion, it may do more than pen can 
write or lips express. When resentme^it, envy, jealousy 
and revenge, become passions, they wither all their envi- 
ronments ; their track lies through happy homes, faithful 
servants, precious worth ; and back of them lies only sin, 
only terror, only hell. 

A. BKNEVOIvKNT AFFECTIONS. 

/. LOVE OF KINDRED. 

Love of kindred is an original and universal adaptation to the 
mission of family life. 



354 AFFECTIONS. 

Its Nature, — It is original. Parental love, filial 
love, and fraternal love, are not the result of association, 
are not acquired affections. I^ove of kindred is connate 
and innate ; it is the cause of associatio7i. lyOve of kin- 
dred does not result/r^;;^ family life, but lies at the foim- 
dation <?/* family life. It is true that association, especial- 
ly when that association includes sacrifice and guardian- 
ship, augments the love of kindred ; but it is equally true 
that association can never produce such love as that of a 
mother. If association were the cause of such affection, then 
association should always produce such effects ; but neigh- 
bors and classmates often do 7iot love each other though 
they have had years of association. Adopted relations, 
such as those of orphans, step-parents, adopted children, 
may be very happy ones ; but they can never be genuine 
love of kindred. Such relations may be a beautiful friend- 
ship, a devoted philanthropy ; but they can never be 
father's love, filial love, mother's love. 

lyove of kindred is also univfrsai,. The Jew, the 
Greek, the Russian, the Indian, and even animals have 
this affection. Sometimes there seems to be an extensive 
exception. The mother of Hindostan throws her child 
into the devouring jaws of the crocodile in the Ganges ; 
but she may love her child for all that ; because fear, piety, 
or education, may prompt such an act. The drtinken 
mother, horrible to think of, may neglect her little ones ; 
but she is no longer worthy of the name she claims ; she is 
almost a beast ; psychology can not conclude a rule from 
such violation of natural heart-life. Whenever an excep- 
tion to love of kindred occurs, it attracts attention ; the ex- 
ception proves the rule. lyove of kindred is universal. 

Adaptations, — The mission of such love is beautiful 
indeed. The helpless child, the aged parent, the unfor- 
tunate invalid requires such love ; safety, protection and 
education, demand such love. If love of kindred were not 



AFFECTIONS. 355 

an original and universal principle, we would know noth- 
ing of family and home life ; and the human race would be 
a horrible chaos. 

The absence of love of kindred is the mark of baseness. It 
deserves our just contempt. 

Unnatural Kindred. — When a parent neglects a 
child ; when a son or a daughter neglects a parent ; when 
children are haters of each other, we turn away from the 
spectacle with contempt. Weakness of character, vice in 
all its forms, and errors of education or piety, may pro- 
duce such monstrous prodigies. We blush for humanity 
when we look upon such baseness, such brutality, such in- 
gratitude ! The modern belle that entertains her beaux 
while her old mother stands at the wash-tub deserves the 
contempt of men and angels ; the ingrate son that ac- 
quires an education through the hard-earned dollars of 
the kind old father, and that then is ashamed to bring his 
father into his brilliant circle, ashamed to recognize his 
mother, brutal enough to neglect his mother, his father, his 
sister or his brother, — he should be expelled from his na- 
tive land and scorned by creation. 

Love of kindred is a beautiful love, designed for happiness and 
purity. Mother's heart is always warmest. 

Missions: Happiness and Purity, — It is this 
love that sings, " There's no place like home", hangs the 
beautiful pictures, cheers the fire-side circle. Parental 
love secures our purity, our safety, our education ; filial 
love gives a cup of cold water to the aged mother and 
father. Social life is made respectful, sympathetic, and 
i6 



356 AFFECTIONS. 

pure, under the impulse of such a holy affection. The son 
or daughter that loves mother, father, sister, brother, is 
not so likely to fall into error and temptation. lyove of 
kindred makes the manly vir/ues more beautiful, and casts 
a halo of purity about our great men. Pericles, Wash- 
ington, Cromwell and Napoleon, were not less great be- 
cause they loved their kindred. So strong may this love 
be that David mourns for Absalom, Aeneas saves Anchi- 
ses, and mother prays for the ransom of an erring child. 
Oh, the depth and strength of MOTHKR-1.OVB ! Who can 
measure it in all its beautiful, its almost divine perfection 
and its god-like mission ! 

//. FRIENDSHIP. 



^30. 

Friendship is a congenial fellowship springing from association 
that reveals a unison chord. 



Nature of Friendship, — Arnold the traitor said he 
had no friend ; but not even Arnold could say that he 
wished for no friend. To be without friends, is a terrible 
tiling. Genuine friendship is a thing universally de- 
sirable ; nor is it confined to mankind. The birds in the 
air and the beasts of the forest are under the impulse of 
friendship. What is it, and whence comes it ? 

A Congenial Fellowship, — Friendship is a con- 
genial fellowship ; the essence of friendship is found in 
SYMPATHY and congeniality ; the affectionate fellow- 
ship is the result of congeniality. Friends desire to be to- 
gether a great deal ; a something common between them 
draws them into sweet sympathy ; their sympathy be- 
comes a reciprocal benevolence, and each is more hap- 
py because of the other's benevolence. 



AFFECTIONS. 357 

Origin of F'riendship, — Whence comes this beau- 
tiful aifection ? It does not spring from every association ; 
for some companionships lead rather to disgust than to 
congenial fellowship ; mere association does not result in 
CONFIDENCK. Association with that which disgusts us 
can no^ often result in friendship. Association and com- 
panionship are, however, the occasion that reveals the 
common chord of friendship. The effect of association is 
SUGGESTION ; association makes that with which we asso- 
ciate a part of our own life, recalls pleasant memories, 
brave deeds, noble devotion ; association may thus lead 
us into friendship with a flower, a room, a mouse, a 
book, a tree. We form a kind of attachment for the home 
and environments of our childhood. The soldier loves 
his rusty sword ; it recalls the scene in which he fought 
for his country's flag and freedom. The prisoner set free, 
casts a lingering glance of tenderness upon the walls that 
confined him for years ; he turns and says, " Good bye, 
old walls". Companionship in this way makes sacred 
the scenes of childhood, youth and age ; we love to recall 
them, and any associating medium will thus win our re- 
gard, our friendship. But association is never- the- less 
not the cause of friendship. If this were true, the closest 
and longest continued associations should always produce 
friendship. If, however, there is a unison chord that is 
revealed to both and that both can touch, then association 
will result in friendship. 

The Soul of Friendship, — The unison chord of 
friendship is 2i spiritual tlmig ; it is a soul. Just what this 
common chord may be, we may not always be able to tell ; 
it may be a similar taste, a ^\vaS\.2iX pursuit, a similar ahn, 
a similar hope. But something common to both there 
must be. There may be diversity of age, genius, posi- 
tion, temperament, power and character ; but if there is 
07ie particular chord touched in the soul of both beings, 



358 AFFKCTIONS. 

friendship will spring up, as it often does, on first ac- 
quaintance. A day or an hour may thus make men 
friends ; and their friendship may be a holy tie which 
only crime, vice or degradation can destroy. Pure and 
noble friendship springs from a detection of a kindrkd 
SPIRIT ; this spirit may look out of the eye, lurk in the 
smile, warm the hand, and tune the voice. The manner 
of a person, his dress, his gait, his looks, his speech, his 
complexion, or whatever it be, may reveal to us the uni- 
son chord that makes us friends. Such a revelation will 
always result in a congenial sympathy ; such a detection 
will always find moral worth the surest basis. A proper 
understanding of what constitutes the essence of friend- 
ship will help us explain all our personal experience. 
Friendship between men and women, in its exclusive form, 
is known as love. Love is the holiest friendship ; it is 
that form of friendship which pours out its deepest grief, 
its most holy joys and its most secret confidences into the 
ear of a mate. We need not here discuss love. A com- 
mon KMPHASis of hope or fear, a common emphasis of any 
chord in human hearts, makes men friends and keeps them 
friends. The Scottish Wallace thus loved the young Ed- 
win and refused to surrender himself to his captors as 
long as there was hope of saving the youthful Edwin. 
David and Jonathan thus come by a common emphasis of 
hope, to be the very ideals of friendship. Robinson Cru- 
soe, though so different from black "Friday", was his 
friend, and Friday was a friend until death ; his arm was 
raised for the last time to defend his friend and benefactor. 
Friendship is, by. such a common emphasis, such a uni- 
son chord, the most unselfish, the most confiding, the 
most benevolent affection. 



AFFKCTIONS. 359 

The permanency of true friendship is not impaired by proper 
tests or by fickle fortune; but loss of moral integiity snaps the 
golden chain in twain. 

Permanency of friendship. — Here it is neces- 
sary to sift the chaff from the wheat. True friendship is 
like precious gold ; but pretended friendship is like the 
poison -ivy — it defiles by touch. True friendship is will- 
ing to undergo test and trial and disappointment. Anger 
may raise hot words and even blows ; envy may rest upon 
true friendship like a poison mildew, but reciprocal sym- 
pathy will brush away the mildew ; evil report, loss of 
reputation, loss of influence, loss of health, loss of fortune 
and even imprisonment, may try our friendship ; but if it is 
the golden stuff it will shine more brightly in tear-drops, in 
defence, and in rescue. These things may test true friend- 
ship, but they can never bi^eak it. 

It is only when our friend degrades himself, against 
our wish and advice, when he rushes headlong into crime 
and vice, that the golden chain of friendship is snapped 
in twain. We would not injure such a one ; we would 
not forget his former self; in tender pity we think of him 
as he was when innocence and virtue were his robe ; we 
stand at the grave of such lost manhood and weep bitter 
tears of regret and grief ; but we could not give him our 
sacred trusts, our secret confidence. Kxperience in the 
loss of friends through loss of moral worth is sadder than 
death.. 

The radius of friendship is indefinite ; but the most sacred 
friendship is somewhat exclusive. 

Radius of Friendship. — Theoretically it is possible 
to have hosts of friends. To gain a new friend need not 



360 . AFFECTIONS. 

mean to lose the old friends. But when a man has hosts 
of friends, it is often true that he is not intimate or confi- 
dential with more than a few. Such a host may be ad- 
mirers of genius, success or power ; but they can not 
properly be called members of a holy brotherhood. Such 
friendship may be well-meaning and honest ; but often it 
is prompted merely by business relation or prudent calcu- 
lation. The host of so-called social friends are too often 
contaminated by cold and selfish interest. Bosom friends 
are few in number and are selected on the basis of some 
emphasized chord of congeniality. Bosom friends make 
up the circle of our comrades and our equals. Such 
friendship is narrower, but it is more delicate and inti- 
mate ; it is a circle within a circle ; this same circle in- 
cludes those who share in common interests, toil with us, 
suffer with us, defend us, cheer us, greet us in success, 
lament with us in affliction, mourn with us at the sep- 
ulcher, weep bitterly for us when we die, and cherish us 
when our home is beyond the grave. The most intimate, 
most sacred friendship is very exclusive ; it selects a 
Jonathan, a loving mother, a trusted pastor or teacher, 
a noble and kindred spirit, and is fired by a sacred com- 
mon impulse, cheered by one central hope and inspired 
by most reverent piety. In this exclusive choice, sacred 
friendship is like love between man and wife ; confidence 
and reciprocal inspiration are the marks of such friend- 
ship ; its altar is a holy place ; its treasures are those of 
comfort and peace ; its depth is that of the ocean ; its 
height is that of heaven ; and its duration is that of eter- 
nity. 



AFFKCTIONS. 36 1 

///. GRA TITUDE. 
^33- 

Gratitude is a combination of joyousness and benevolence ; it 
is measured by the motives that prompt the gift or favor. 

Nature of Gratitude. — The circle of our benefac- 
tors has a greater radius than that of true friendship. 
Our benefactors may be unconscious or conscious agents 
of good to us. Benefactors may be friends or enemies. 
Our benefactor is not always a lover ; gratitude is not love, 
and whenever it is mistaken for love, it may result in 
wretched blunders or life-long misery. Gratitude is a 
joyousness prompted by the reception of gifts or favors. 
The Christmas gift, the birthday surprise, the word of 
commendation, the recognition of honest merit, and the 
devotion of sacred friendship, fill our hearts with a thrill- 
ing joyousness. The spirit is lightened, the burden rolls 
from us, the sky brightens when such benefits fall to our 
lot. The foot -sore beggar smiles and weeps for very joy 
when an honest favor is done him ; "Uncle Tom" throbs 
and thrills under the spell of his promised freedom ; the 
innocent child nestles up close to its benefactor ; and the 
silver-haired, dear old mother brushes away an irresistible 
tear of joy when a sincere favor is received. But' grati- 
tude is more than an emotion of joyousness ; it is a JOY- 
OUSNKSS plus BKNKVoivKNCK. The very soul of gratitude 
is benevolence ; a wish of good rises up in the heart of 
gratitude and seeks the loved donor ; and nothing can 
quench this ardent benevolence in a healthy soul. 

F'ervency of Gratitude. — GrsLtiinde is jneasured by 
the mofh'es that prompt the gift or favor. Indeed, the 
recognition of a friendly motive is the ground and cause 
of gratitude ; we do not ask so much for the value of the 
gift as we ask for the motive that prompted the gift ; and 



362 AFFECTIONS. 

if wa detect self-interest, calculation, policy, or flattery in 
the donor, we are intensely disgusted. The gift may be 
worth a simple mite, and yet call forth gratitude ; it may 
be a simple, honest word, and yet cause joyousness : on 
the other hand, the gift may be a crown, and yet cause 
only disgust if the donor has "an ax to grind". Our 
benefactor is, therefore, the object of gratitude ; his gift, 
in itself, is simply an occasion. Wherever gratitude 
abounds, we expect to find a noble heart, and a healthy 
soul. 

The expression of gratitude varies with temperament and en- 
vironment, and its mission is a voice from heaven. 

Expression of Gratitude, — Men do not express 
their gratitude in only one way. Temperament and envi- 
ronment modify their mode of expression. The effusive 
temperament may express gratitude by loud demonstra- 
tion ; the reserved and modest express their gratitude by 
a warm glance or a significant grasp of the hand ; the 
timid and modest may in secret send a word of intense 
warmth to those who will reward an honest donor. Even 
the proud and haughty will find some means to express 
gratitude. Unless moral night and winter have frozen 
the heart into an icicle, men will find some way to ex- 
press their gratitude. By this adaptation of our nature, 
God teaches us to look from human gifts up to the greater 
gifts of a loving Father. 

Ingratitude, — Intensely sad is that heart that is too 
cold to be grateful ; bitterly pitiable is that heart- insanity 
which can not feel a glowing warmth under a gracious 
gift from God or man ; indescribably contemptible is in- 
gratitude toward parents and God. The Saviour sadly 
asks, "Where are the nine?" and the world in stern 



AFFECTIONS. 363 

amazement asks, "What is this brutal demon Ingrati- 
tude?" 

/v. PATRIOTISM. 

235- 

Patriotism is a connate and universal love of home and coun- 
try. It is called into exercise by continued association. 

Nature of Patriotism, — lyove of home and native 
land is dorn with every heart. Even the child loves his 
home, his village, his country more than any other. 
Children as well as animals may die of nostalgia, or home 
sickness. This shows that patriotism is connate and 
INSTINCTIVE. No amount of association could produce 
this affection, if the capacity were not an original principle 
of heart -life. Patriotism is a universai, affection ; for, 
in every clime, continued association will call forth love 
of home and country. The savage and the civilized man 
are equally endowed with patriotism. 

Rational Character. — Patriotism is not only orig- 
inal, instinctive and universal, but it is a rationai. af- 
fection. That this is true appears from the fact that our 
fathers and mothers, after years of reflection, still love 
their home and country. Indeed, this affection grows 
with age : the old tramp may die of home-sickness ; the 
silver-haired sage will wither and sink into deep melan- 
choly when transferred to a new home ; the old soldier 
will again cheer his country's flag and straighten himself 
as if for actual battle. The love of native land is at the 
foundation of that still more intense /oi'c of freedom. 

Called into Exercise by Association, — While 

patriotism is an original and universal endowment, it 

must be called into exercise by continued association. 

This explains why the Esquimaux love the icy North, 

16* 



364 AFFKCTIONS. 

and why the Hottentot loves his sunnj^ Africa. Associa- 
tion will thus encourage man to love any home or coun- 
try with which he has been associated from childhood. 
Association makes our home and our country a part of 
ourselves ; we form the closest, the most jealous attach- 
ment to such a place ; whatever injures this country seems 
to injure us. Patriotism is grateful to him who deals 
kindly with home and country ; but it burns with indig- 
nation when the tyrant and the invader approach. 

236. 

The fervency of patriotism is modified by environments of 
necessity, rivalry, language, custom, manner and national pride. 

JRervency of Patriotism, — Patriotism may be re- 
garded as a fire in heart-life. When there is nothing to 
fan this affection, it seems to withdraw from our gaze in- 
to an inner and deeper chamber ; but when home or coun- 
try require support and defence, patriotism fires up every 
heart. In this respect, patriotism is like a mother's love 
for a helpless infant. In the infancy of our nation's his- 
tory, the fires of patriotism flamed up into a beacon light 
that touched all foreign shores. The early settlers pro- 
tecting their homes from savage horrors, the thirteen col- 
onies struggling for freedom, and the union giving its life 
blood to save national integrity, were under the im- 
pulse of a burning patriotism called into fervent exercise 
by the nKCKSSITy of their country. Rivalry between 
towns, states and countries, fans patriotism into fervency. 
Bach town and country points with pride to resources, 
progress and character. Language, custom, and manner 
help to keep alive this national love. Those who speak the 
same language, and live under similar customs and man- 
ners, are likely to be in the same array, are likely to love 
the same countr}^ National pride looks upon its historic 



AFFECTIONS. 365 

greatiiCvSS, upon its hivStoric struggles and upon its present 
honor ; in comparison, every other country falls short in 
such estimation. National pride fills our streets with /ii- 
rades when a question of national welfare is to be decided ; 
in this way, it fans into livelier flame the otherwise dormant 
love of home and country. Our public parades do much 
to bind together people of one sentiment, to bind us into 
national pride. National pride counteracts internation- 
al sentiment. If growing international sentiment were 
allowed to take its course, all nations would centralize in- 
to one universal brotherhood ; but national pride has 
stepped into the way of such a sentiment, and for six 
thousand years it has ' prevailed. As countries become 
more civilized and prosperous, they learn to understand 
each other more accurately, establish international com- 
merce, etc. These things would gradually extinguish 
patriotic distinction ; but as countries progress, they be- 
gin to look back upon historic efforts, they view with 
pride their individuality and thus keep alive genuine love 
of home and countrj^ Indeed, patriotism may seem to 
slumber in our present peaceful countr}^ ; but were there 
to be a call for "seventy-five thousand" volunteers to de- 
fend us from an invading tyrant, "three hundred thou- 
sand' ' would again march on to Richmond. The fervency 
of patriotism vSeems to be most intense where it is least ex- 
pected. The Icelander loves his native land, and would 
pine to go back if he were transferred to foreign climes. 
The Swiss people, in their mountain fastnesses, are as true 
as steel to their native land. The Austrians and the Ger- 
mans tried to take Switzerland from the Swiss ; but they 
did not succeed ; they never will succeed. Ten thousand 
William Tells would spring into defence. 



366 AFFKCTIONS. 

Physical conformation and history prove that the mission of 
patriotism is tribal separation and self-protection. 

Mission of Patriotism, — Rivers, mountains and 
oceans are natural barriers that seem to indicate God's 
wish to preserve tribal separation ; the whole economy of 
physical nature indicates such a separation. These bar- 
riers cause diversity of custom, interest and association ; 
and upon these distinctions patriotism depends. History 
also confirms this thought. When men built the tower 
of Babel to centralize all nations, God confused their 
tongues and scattered them over all 'the continents. The 
migration of nations does not continue longer than is 
necessary to establish thorough tribal separation. But 
such separation brings with it the necessity of self- protec- 
tion. Invaders mUvSt be repelled ; improvements must be 
made ; national prosperity and integrity must be main- 
tained : honor and liberty must be defended. Patriotism 
is, then, an original and universal affection that, like paren- 
tal love, takes under its care one's home and country ; 
protects and defends it ; and raises its altar to national 
justice. 

V. PHILANTHROPY. 

23S, 

Philanthropy, or love for mankind, is called forth by sympa- 
thy ; its mission is to relieve and to ennoble. 

The Origin and Nature of Philanthropy, — 

The formation of the word denotes its place among the 
benevolent affections. Philanthropy is instinctive and 
original ; it often becomes rational ; and, though not as no- 
|;iceable as the other affections, it is niiore or less univ^ersal, 



AFFECTIONS. 367 

It has for its object all mankind ; the radius of philan- 
thropy is as wide as the human race. The origin and 
essence of philanthropy is sympathy, — a broad unselfish 
sympathy that goes out to all mankind. Since sympathy 
is the origin and essence of philanthropy, it does not al- 
ways remain inactive philanthropy. 

Mission, — In its most active energy, it sets about to 
relieve the afflicted of this world. Philanthropy sent^ 
Howard into the prison pens of England to rescue the 
convicts from the mire of degradation. Philanthropy 
urged Peabody to spend his millions to lift up the fallen 
and ignorant. Philanthropy seeks to save from human 
suffering, seeks to ennoble the race. Donations, self-sac- 
rifice, devotion, are its beautiful manifestations. Philan- 
thropy ever reminds each man of the fact that mankind 
is a great brotherhood. 

VI. PIETY. 
239' 

Piety, or love of God, is a universal prompting of the heart 
toward the divine parent, friend and benefactor. 

Origin and Nature of Piety, — I^ove of God is a 
native impulse infused into the heart by our Creator. It 
is true that sin is ever trying to quench this love and to 
blot it out ; but yet the Heathen and the Christian love 
their God. Heathen sacrifice is an evidence of this love. 
Heathen darkness and degradation sometimes change 
this love to fear ; but wherever men recognized a Deity, 
they loved that Deity and prayed to him and offered them- 
selves to his service. Piety is the deepest love of the 
heart. Perhaps this is due to the fact that its object is 
at the same time the object of filial love, friendship and 
gratitude. Indeed, piety is a triune love ; it is love of 



368 AFFECTIONS. 

parent, love of friend, and love of benefactor. It is 
strange, passing strange that, in Christian nations, piety 
should so often change to hatred, enmity and ingratitude. 
Truly, the image of the living God has been effaced from 
such human hearts ! Impiety surely is the most unfilial, 
the most unkind, the most ungrateful, and the most in- 
sane impulse of the heart ! 

Mission of Piety, — In all lands and in all climes, 
piety has erected its altars and founded its churches, 
devoted its martyrs and priests. Piety has kept the human 
race from sinking lower than the brute. The mission of 
piety is to lift man up to God, to fit the heart for the 
touch of heaven, to unlock the heart for the reception of 
divine favors. Poet and painter and historian vie with 
each other in their efforts to portray the sweetness of 
piety. Piety sings its hymns of praise in the morning 
and rests upon prayer to God in the night. Piety makes 
man a holy vessel for the Lord's favors. It was piety that 
sent Moses and Daniel into the wilderness and into the 
lion's den ; it was piety that taught us our mother's 
prayer. Of all psychological capacities, piety is the 
noblest and best. It crowns the emotional nature with a 
godlike crown ; it touches all the benevolent affections 
with a gentler, holier love ; it subdues envy, anger, jeal- 
ousy, revenge ; it shames the passions into silence ; it 
urges the will into holy actions ; and it guards with sacred 
jealousy the name and honor of a faithful heavenly 
Father. 

B. MAI.KVOLKNT AFFECTIONS. 

340, 

The malevolent affections are original and universal. They 
are both instinctive and rational in manifestation. 



AFFKCTIONS. 369 

Origin and Nature of Malevolent Affections, 

— These affections are the opposites to the benevolent af- 
fections. No one doubts their existence in our nature. 
Love of kindred has its opposite as an exception ; friend- 
ship has its opposite in enmity ; gratitude has its opposite 
in ingratitude ; patriotism has its opposite in traitors ; 
philanthropy has its opposite in misanthropy, and 
piety has its opposite in impiety. Love, in its generic 
character, has its opposite in hatred. While all forms of 
love are feelings of pleasure, all forms of hatred are feel- 
ings of displeasure. The malevolent affections are there- 
fore feelings of dispi^Kasurk plus rkskntmknt or in- 
dignation. The word malevolent does not here mean 
that every manifestation of resentment is evil. The term 
may be unfortunate in leading to wrong impression ; but 
we have no better word to substitute. We content our- 
selves by remembering that the word malevolent is to 
mean simply the opposite of benevolence, and we shall 
find that some forms of resentment are 72^/ culpable. Re- 
sentment, in all its forms, is first original and instinctive. 
Childen are subject to anger, envy, jealousy and revenge ; 
even animals are subject to these feelings. Long before 
reflection and volition give complexion to the child-mind, 
resentment has begun to manifest itself. All through our 
life, resentment will spring up in our bosom, uncalled for, 
previous to reflection, in spite of reflection and after re- 
flection. When reason and volition give complexion to 
resentment, we call its manifestation rational. Under 
this form, the long cherished feud will seek retaliation, 
and the insulted gentleman will seek to retrieve his honor 
by fighting a duel. Under its instinctive form, the child 
will hurl an offending stone as far away as his little arm 
has strength, and the Indian will break the fatal arrow 
into splinters. Wrath, or anger, seems also to be a imi- 
versal affection ; for we can find no man that was not 



370 AFFKCTIONS. 

subject to it at some time in life. Cold climate and warm 
climate can only modify, but not erase this principle from 
our nature. As an original and universal endowment, 
this emotional capacity must have its proper mission in 
the economy of nature. 

/. RESENTMENT. 

2S4I, 

Resentment is displeasure plus malevolence toward male- 
factors. Its intensity is modified by temperament and estima- 
tion of motives. 

Origin and Nature of Resentment. — This feel- 
ing is the emphatic opposite to gratitude. Gifts and 
favors call forth gratitude toward the benefactor ; 
but injury and injustice call forth resentment and indig- 
nation. Resentment is a feeling of displeasure prompted 
by real or fancied injustice to ourselves ; indignation is a 
similar feeling, prompted by real or fancied injustice to 
others. Indignation involves a feeling of compassion. 
When some one injures us, we feel not only displeasure, 
but our heart swells with a wish of retribution for the one 
who injures us. In its instinctive manifestation, resent- 
ment seems not to distinguish the injury from the injurer ; 
but in its reflective manifestation, it does not look so much 
upon the injmy as such ; it rather looks upon the signifi- 
cance of the injury as determined by the malefactor. The 
wish of retribution then goes out toward the doer of the 
deed rather than toward the thing done. 

Intensity of Resentment, — Resentment and in- 
dignation are modified bj^ temperament and the estima- 
tion of motives. Children and men differ in sudden- 
ness and intensity of anger. Their temperament is the 
ground of this difference. When the child grows into 
manhood, he may weakly yield to this instinctive force of 



AFFECTIONS. 57 1 

temperament and passion. Many a man in this way be- 
comes a scourge to himself and a burden to his friends. 
If mature reflection condemns rash resentment and curbs 
its intensity, then even temperament can not make the 
angry man an object of disgust. In such a case, the man 
is fighting a battle, and by noble contest subdues his 
malevolent propensities. Such a man deserves credit. 
" He who rules his anger is greater than a king." The 
intensit}^ of resentment, especially in its rational and vol- 
untary manifestations, is modified by the detection of 
motives in the agent of injury. When we know, or think 
we know, that the injury was not pre-meditated ; when 
we believe that the injury was purely accidental or the 
result of weakness, thoughtlessness and fun, we are ready 
to "forgive and forget" ; but when we believe that the in- 
jury was meant, calculated, planned, pre-meditated ; when 
we suspect that the injury was the product of a designer, 
a rascal, a human beast, then we are full of righteous 
wrath against the doer. Resentment recognizes that it is 
' 'human to err' ' , and that when a malefactor is sincerely 
sorry for the injury he has done, it is almost "divine to 
forgive". In its protective and punitive forms, resent- 
ment is thus measured by motives, and consequently tem- 
pered by reasonable mercy. 

The mission of normal resentment is that of protection and 
justice. Resentment is the handmaid of Law. 

Missions of Resentment, — Our friends and we, 
too, would be injured, insulted, slandered, wronged in a 
thousand ways, if resentment were not an original and 
instinctive provision of nature. Resentment and indigna- 
tion constitute an emotional alarm system that keeps us 
watchful in danger, that protects ourselves and others 



372 AFFEJCTIONS. 

from imposition and injustice. Resentment keeps the 
heart from being as cowardly as the head and will some- 
times are. Prudence and reflection are often laid aside to 
protect the helpless from injury. Protective resentment 
shines its brightest when it establishes societies for the 
prevention of cruelty to children and animals. When 
civilized communities let any consideration bury just re- 
sentment they deserve the contempt of angels. Resent- 
ment has for its mission protection and justices ; re- 
sentment and indignation are the handmaids of lyaw. 
Executions of justice would be frustrated bj^ an over- 
abundance of compassion, did not resentment counteract 
this compassionate tendency. Mercy is a beautiful thing ; 
but when it violates justice, when it prompts partiality to 
criminals, when mercy neglects and slights those who 
strive to be honest and virtuous, then mercy becomes 
crime. God is a perfect balance of justice and mercy. 
Resentment and mercy in human hearts are to form an 
hnage of this divine balance. The judge dare not let 
compassion for innocent children and weeping wife, keep 
him from condemning the murderer to the gallows. The 
teacher in his control of a school, dare not weakly listen 
to the voice of compassion when reason tells him that 72^5- 
tice is duty. Mother and father and friend would fail in 
their duty, fail in their mission, if they never permitted 
righteous resentment to decide their penalties. Upon this 
proper principle of resentment the court of justice, the 
home and school, are founded. Lawsuits originate from 
this affection, and crime is checked or punished. 

Resentment is culpable when it is unreasonable and uncon- 
trolled, as in envy, jealousy and revenge. 

Abuse of Resentment, — We have seen that resent- 
ment is instinctive in its origin, that it is a native endow- 



AFFKCTIONS. 373 

ment. To find fault with this natural endowment would 
be to find fault with our Creator. Our business is not to 
impugn God for what he has put into the human heart ; 
but to look for God's reason and for the mission of that 
with which we may have been endowed. Let us then 
take it for granted that resentment in its normal functions 
is reasonable and good ; but that abuse may make resent- 
ment unreasonable and evil. We can not keep a hornet 
from perching upon our unsuspecting head ; but we can 
drive it from us and guard against a repetition of what 
may injure us. The struggle may be a severe one ; it 
may demand all our resources of intellect to avoid occa- 
sions ; it may require all our strength of will to keep 
down anger, resentment, envy, jealousy and revenge ; we 
may often fail. "It is human to err". But God meant 
that our emotional nature should be subject to our Intel- 
lect and Will, and when we fail to remember this, we are 
to be blamed. Instinctive resentment, in all its forms, 
may spring up in our heart like a noxious weed. If we 
consciously and voluntarily indulge these propensities, 
we become guilty of violating our intellectual and volun- 
tary stewardship. Self-control must ever form a check 
to ungoverned resentment. Few intelligent men will, af- 
ter mature reflection, justify envy, jealousy, violent rage, 
abusive anger, and revenge. All these feelings may come 
upon us in our unguarded moments, may change us into 
ferocious brutes devoid of reason and control, the creature 
of most unholy passion. When resentment through un- 
reasoning violence becomes deliberately abusive, it is ter- 
rible. Such resentment prompts the frightful retaliations 
of feuds and duels. The tribal feuds of ancient and mod- 
ern times are as ungodly as the}^ are unreasonable. St. 
Blmo, that admirable novel by Augusta Evans, is a fair 
exposition of the nature of uncontrolled and unreasonable 
resentment ; of its terrible degradation and of the intense 



374 AFFECTIONS. 

humiliation that succeeds such guilty indulgence. We 
conclude, then, that normal resentment, in its mission of 
protection and justice, is reasonable and good ; but that 
all abnormal forms are unreasonable and evil. 

2144. 

Envy is hatred of superiors ; jealousy is hatred of rivals ; and 
revenge is a vindictive passion of resentment. 

Mnvy, — Bnvy manifests itself early in children. The 
child is ready to find fault with a parent's distribution of 
favors ; classmates are ready to look with coldness upon 
their superiors. Beggars envy their fellow beggars when 
they succeed better in their begging ; men and women 
often make themselver objects of ridicule, because they 
envy each other in most trivial aifairs as well as in the 
higher concerns of religion and profession. Without re- 
straint, this envious tendency will wreck personal happi- 
ness and annoy many innocent persons. It is also to be 
remarked that envy chooses for its object those who most 
nearly approach their own ranks or conditions. The 
young man does not envy his aged superior ; but he en- 
vies his comrade, his classmate, his professional opponent. 
Bnvy may spring up in the hearts of those who would 
otherwise be good friends. Envy aims its darts at those 
who rise more rapidly than common sentiment would pre- 
fer ; it is a poisonous exhalation in society ; a source of 
bitterness in the home ; and a canker in ever}^ heart that 
is foolish or weak enough to harbor it. 

Jealousy, — This malevolent aifection is a complex 
feeling. It is a hatred of rivals. The rivalry may occur 
in business, profession and love. Indeed, it may occur in 
every sphere of life. Envy is most conspicuous in love 
affairs. A peculiarity of jealousy is that it suspects the 
one most loved. Jealousy is pre-eminentlj' a feeling of 



AFFECTIONS. 375 

suspicion and. consequent displeasure. It is a selfish and 
contemptible passion when its suspicion is unreasonable 
or whimsical. A person may feel humiliated by his own 
jealousy and yet nourish the most active malevolence. 
Jealousy in its violent moods, deforms the countenance 
into a demon's scowl, and racks the heart with an irre- 
sistible agony. Jealousy seeks to punish the object of re- 
sentment, inflicts ridiculous penances upon self, and, if it 
can not be removed, it is satiated only by horrible revenge. 
The suicides heaped upon the sea-shore and gathered in- 
to morgues, may often be traced to the maddening impul- 
ses of jealousy. The murders of rivalry are the fruits of 
jealousy. Othello is a personification of jealousy. In 
this character, Shakespeare traces the origin, growth and 
culmination of the deadly passion. The student should 
study this accurate delineation by Shakespeare. 

Revenge, — But who can tell the horrors caused by re- 
venge ? Its beastly voice is heard in the young and the 
old. Even a child strikes a fatal blow to satisfy revenge. 
The law of honor, still somewhat adhered to in European 
universities, illustrates the frenzy of this passion. In the 
Jewish laws, checks are put upon this passion ; the Cities 
of Refuge shelter the intended victim. Injustice is often 
wiped out with blood. It is thus that the Nihilist raises 
his dastardly dagger, and that American strikes wreck 
and destro}^ whatever may be found in their way. Re- 
venge prompts the rival to murder ; and the injured In- 
dian to seek his foe through marsh or into foreign lands. 
Revenge drives the assassin's dagger into the noblest of 
our land. Revenge often gorges itself in blood ; but it is 
never honest in contest ; it is sneaking, cowardly, calcu- 
lating, crafty and simply devilish. This violent passion 
leaps beyond the bounds of reason ; snaps the shakles of 
self-control ; raves in its furies ; foams in its chagrin ; and 



376 AFFECTIONS. 



in savage glee digs out the heart of its victims. God and 
religion are our refuge from revenge. 

Violent resentment is checked by the dread of disapproba- 
tion, counter-resentment, and humiliation. 

Check Against Violent Resentment, — Protec- 
tion and justice are the missions of resentment. In the 
adaptation of means and penalties, our resentment may 
urge us beyond what is reasonable. The parent, the 
teacher, and tribunals of earthly justice may be incau- 
tious, may neglect to seek for exact motives, may over- 
estimate injuries, and thus impose unreasonable penalties 
upon offenders. That this was not intended by our nor- 
mal endowment of resentment, is indicated by the checks 
that have been placed into our hearts. All men are fond 
of sympathy ; loss of sympathy causes uneasiness and re- 
gret. Remorse may set in and render the soul extremely 
unhappy when it loses the sympathy of others. Dread of 
such disapprobation disturbs the conscience. Violent re- 
sentme7it invites counter-resentment. This is seen when 
parents, teachers and tribunals impose undue penalties. 
Counter-resentment is an admirable check for violent re- 
sentment. The bitter hmniliation that follows an outburst 
of revenge is also a natural check for revenge. Dignity 
of character dreads such humiliation. 






• C. DESIRES. 

The Nature of Desire and Aversion, — Desires 
are feelings that prompt the mind to possess an agreeable 
object ; aversion urges the mind to avoid a disagreeable 
object. Aversion is the exact opposite of desire. Desire 
is a positive pole and aversion is a negative pole. Desire 
and aversion are as manifold as the wants of body and mind. 
Whatever object seems to satisfy some want of our physi- 
cal or mental constitution, naturally becomes an objecl 
of desire ; and, whatever seems to dissatisfy a bent of 
body or mind, becomes oxi object of aversion. 

Economical Impulses. — God implants desires in 
the heart as an impulsive force, with the design of econ- 
omy. Intelligence and temperament, habit and educa- 
tion, produce all sorts of modification ; but desires, 
whether natural or acquired, are the mainsprings of life. 

Triune Character. — The hope of winning the 
agreeable object, or the hope of escaping a disagreeable ob- 
ject, affords a peculiar ejij oy merit ; this enjoyment is a 
simple and sichjedive emotion. The agreeable object is 
also an object either of love or hate ; this love or hate is 
objective, sending out toward its object a benevolent or 
malevolent impulse. But the distinctive feature of de- 
sires is \h€\r prompting to possess the agreeable or to es- 
cape the disagreeable object. 

ClassiiRcation and Enumeration. — Since we are 
both body and mind, we may classify desires as animal 
desires and rational desires. The animal and the rational 
desires are natural and original impulses of the emotional 
nature. It is proper to notice here the existence of ac- 
quired DKSiRKS, such as alcoholism. The acquired desires 
are rather animal appetites, impulses of the physical 



378 DKSIRKS. 

nature, than rational desires. They belong primarily to 
the physiological nature of man ; but the intimate relation 
of body and mind, makes it important to consider ac- 
quired desires as mental phenomena. The principal ac- 
quired desires are those of Alcohol, Opium, Tobacco andj 
other Stimulants. 

Sources of Desires, — Animal desires are out- 
growths of physical wants ; rational desires are outgrowths 
of mental wants. The principal animal desires are those 
of Food, Repose, Activity, and Sex. The animal desires 
are common to man and beast. The principal rational 
desires are those of happiness, knowledge, society, wealth, 
power, esteem, and the modifications called hope mid fear. 
The rational desires are accompaniments of iNTKiyi.1- 
GKNCK. 

The necessary antecedents of desire are intellectual apprehen- 
sion and emotional enjoyment of an absent object. 

Occasions: Apprehension and Enjoyment, — 

Every desire is an outgrowth of indispensable conditions. 
These conditions are the source, but the outgrowing de- 
sires are the streams of a mighty emotional force within 
our nature. Absence of an agreeable or disagreeable ob- 
ject is the proper condition for desire. The object of de- 
sire may be food, life, repose, fame, power, &c. But such 
objects could exist and yet produce no desire in us ; it is 
only when we have an intellectual apprkhi:nsion of such 
an object, that desire springs up in the heart. Intellect- 
ual apprehension may be based on observatio7i, experience 
and imagination. What we have observed, experienced 
or imagined as agreeable to our wants, as adapted to our 
constitution, is likely to lead to desire. There is an in- 
termediate step : emotional :BNjOYM:eNT is the indispensa- 



DESIRES. 379 

ble condition of desire. Intellectual' apprehension that 
leads to no emotional enjoyment, can not lead to desire. 
The same is true of aversion. We do not cherish aver- 
sion toward that which we have never apprehended or 
suffered . The emotional enjoyment may be a simple 
emotion or an affection. 

The impulsive force of desire with its design of economy, is 
modified by intelligence, temperament and control. 

Impulsive Porce of Desire. — That the desires 
are an impelling force in conduct and character, is known 
from experience and history. The animai, desires have 
for their mission the h/e and preservation of the individual 
as well as the race. In the press of active pursuits, we 
are apt to violate the laws of physical life. It is the mis- 
sion of our animal desires to avoid such violation. When, 
however, the gratification of animal desires makes man a 
glutton or a debauchee, the mission of desire is forgotten. 
Over the fate of such a man, the angels of heaven might 
weep. The rationaIv desires have for their design the 
happiness and mission of human life. Intellectual activ- 
ity would not lead to volition or conduct, had we no emo- 
tional capacity. This emotional capacity is emphasized 
by desh^es. Happiness, power, wealth, society, esteem, 
and knowledge, are objects of rational desire ; but we are 
to use all these objects in our life mission. These desires 
are thus impelling forces, springs of action ; they have 
their design in the economy of life. 

Modifying Influences. — The design of desire is as- 
sisted or hindered by iiitelligence, teniperainent and control. 
Personal life and history are the outgrowth of our desires 
and our aversions. Inteixigence and ignorance have 
often given complexion to our desires ; ignorance is often 
17 



380 DESIRES. 

steeped in animal desires. Intelligence usually accentu- 
ates the rational desires. The intelligence of heredity or 
of education has a stimulating effect upon our rational 
desires, and is likely to subordinate the animal desires into 
their proper sphere. Temperament is a decisive influ- 
ence in the direction of our desire. Our desires are em- 
phatic according to the emphasis of our temperament. 
The 7iervous temperament is more likely to desire activity, 
knowledge, esteem, &c. The //z/(?^;;«<2/2V. temperament is 
likely to desire repose, and lays but little stress upon ra- 
tional desires. The bilious temperament is likely to de- 
sire knowledge, power, esteem. It lays stress on all its 
desires and ever shouts "Excelsior !" ^he sangui?ie i^m.- 
perament looks on the bright side of life, and desires to be 
happy, to make happy, and to enjoy life's sunshine. The 
usual combination of temperaments makes our conduct a 
complex product of all desires. 

The strength and growth of desire are modified by the valua- 
tion of an absent object and by hope deferred. 

Strength and Growth of Desire. — From the 
cradle to the grave, the strength of desire varies according 
to influences from within and from without ourselves. 
An ABSENT OBJECT leads to desire measured in strength 
by our own valuation of the absent object. If we enjoyed 
and loved that object when it was actually or ideally pres- 
ent with us, our desire for that object will be proportion- 
ally intense. That which we recognize as adapted to our 
own life and happiness; that which has a kindred spirit 
with ours, becomes an object of intense desire. This de- 
sire may be checked and suppressed ; but hope often re- 
suscitates, rekindles the suppressed desire. DeIvAy makes 
the possession of the desired object all the more precious. 



DESIRES. 381 

Desire grows upon hope, and lives even when hope lies 
dead. Rational control must subordinate our desires ; 
but out of the heart are the issues of life, often in spite of 
reason and will. The saddest sadness results from hope 
forever deferred ; from desire forever fixed upon an ab- 
sent object, — an object out of reach, out of control, be- 
yond us. 

Voluntary conquest must put our desires under due sub-ordi- 
nation, lest passion wreck our life. 

Control of Desires. — Intellectual valuation of an 
object of desire should always precede our conduct. 
When we voluntarily conquer our desires; when we school 
ourselves into submission to our Father's good pleasure, 
we become all the stronger for such schooling. The de- 
sire of wealth, power, esteem, &c., must never conflict 
with duty. Our pleasure must always be subordinate to 
our mission as a psychological agent. 

Any desire may become a passion. He who allows 
power and wealth to dazzle him into the insanity of ambi- 
tion and covetousness, betrays his soul into the grasp of 
remorseless passion. The objects of love and desire may 
thus become objects of everlasting shame. An hour of 
unhallowed gratification often sets ajar the gates of hell, 
and opens the flood-gates for an eternity of woe. 

A. THE ANIMAI, DESIRES. 

250. 

The animal desires are not essentially selfish ; for they under- 
lie most important functions of life. 

Nature and Design of the Animal Desires, 

— The principal animal desires are those of Food, Activity, 



382 DKSI RKS . 

Repose, Sex and Stimulants. The animal desires, or ap- 
petites, are common to man and beast. The appetites 
are outgrowths of bodily wants. The desire oifood urges 
men and animals to seek nourishment for their bodies. 
In a sense, the animal desires are physiological sensa- 
tions ; but in an other sense, they lead to psychological 
desires. Our bodies must be nourished in order to sup- 
port life and growth. This follows from the fact that the 
body is a servant of the soul. Without the instinctive 
desire for food, we would often forget to eat and drink. 
Weakness, disease and death would follow; our life- 
mission would be a failure. The strong desire for activity 
urges man and beast to seek proper exercise and to en- 
gage in the active pursuits of life. Apart from this de- 
sire, art and science would remain in most primitive 
forms, and the ordinary duties of life would become too 
irksome. In the phlegmatic temperament we may notice 
a minimum desire of activity; the consequences are both 
serious and ludicrous. The desire for repose saves us 
from being in too much activity. Constant activity 
would soon destroy animal and rational life. The desire 
for repose saves us from early exhaustion and premature 
death. Apart from this desire, we would violate many 
laws of physical life. The desire of stimulants is also an 
instinctive appetite. The use of some stimulants urges 
to an acquired desire, such as that of alcohol, opium, to- 
bacco, choral, etc. The desire of stimulants grows out of 
our nervous constitution. In a very limited sense, the de- 
sire for stimulants is designed to assist physiological func- 
tions ; but unsatisfying and hopeless passion too often 
lead to irrational gratification — gratification that enslaves, 
and wrecks, and ruins. 



D E S I R K S . 383 

B. THE RATIONAL DESIRE.S. 

The principal rational desires are those of happiness, life, so- 
ciety, knowledge, power, wealth, esteem, and hope. 

Mtiumeration, — The list could be prolonged by enu- 
merating all those objects which gratify and satisfy the 
wants of our physical and mental life. All other desires 
than the above resolve themselves into one of these. 

/. T//E DESIRE FOR HAPPINESS. 

The desire for happiness grows out of a rational apprehension 
of what constitutes happiness and its requisites. 

Original and Universal Desire, — We need not 
hesitate to affirm that this desire is an original endow- 
ment ; it manifests itself early in child-life, and is not ab- 
sent from the aged father or mother. It is a rational 
desire in as much as it is based upon an intelligent appre- 
hension of what constitutes happiness and its requisites. 
This desire is universal: all men have always been seek- 
ing happiness. Amid the sorrows of this life, we hope 
for a better time; we are constantly hoping for that con- 
dition in life when we shall have reasonable gratification 
of our wants. No man is willing to be forever unhappy. 
The thought of such a probability would break the heart. 

Constituents of Happiness. — What is happiness ? 
This is a difficult question. Men of different tempera- 
ment would frame different definitions ; but we may say 
in general, that happiness is a state or condition which 
satisfies and gratifies the wants of our body and mind. 
Such a state would include contentment, enjoyment, mor- 
al satisfaction and the hope of immortality^ 



384 D K S I R K S . 

Sunshine and Shadows, — "Into each life some 
rain must fall' ' . The happiest man in the world is not 
free from sorrow, trial, temptation and disappointments; 
but these things are the exception. There is more sun- 
shine than rain even in this wicked world. 

Things of Happiness, — Some of the things that 
make us happy are physical comfort, freedom and health, 
a good home, kind friends, cheerful benefactors, grateful 
companions, influence, property, etc. It will be seen that 
happiness includes a good many things, and that conse- 
quently the desire for happiness is the central source of 
all desires, perhaps the one chief motive of all human 
effort. We can hardly discover an action in our own 
lives or in history, that was not prompted by the desire to 
be happy. To be sure, the apprehension of what would 
bring happiness was often imperfect, and the gratification 
irrational ; but, all things considered, the desire of hap- 
piness pervades our inner life, our hopes and fears, our 
daily conduct, and our future destiny. 

JNTot Necessarily Selhsh, — Self-love is compatible 
with the desire to be happy ; but selfishness is a violation 
of this desire. Reason and revelation approve of self-love. 
The good Book tells us to love our neighbor as we love 
ourselves. Such self-love does not keep us from loving 
others, and consequently does not keep others from being 
happy. The desire for happiness often becomes selfish. 
When a man seeks to escape all unhappiness, he selfishly 
tramples upon the rights and feelings of others. Indeed, 
it is hardly possible to estimate the intensity of selfishness 
that often mingles with our desire to be happy. While 
we can not admit that selfishness is the source and spring 
of all human conduct, we are ready to admit that self-love 
is almost, if not wholly, the main essence of the desire to 
be happy ; and we are ready to admit that, therefore, the 



DKSIRES. 385 

desire of happiness, in the most rational sense, is the most 
potent force in all our conduct. 

Happiness Deferred, — Sometimes we must wait 
for happiness. The rescue of an enemy may make us 
unhapp3^ in certain respects ; but we rescue him because 
the moral satisfaction is a rational offset. It is difficult, 
perhaps impossible, to find any act in our life that does 
not grow out of the desire to be happy. The search for 
such happiness, and the means selected, may be very ir- 
rational ; but the desire is still present. The desire to be 
happy includes the desire to /izr, to continue to live, to 
be immortal. 

The desire for life is a proof that God's world is an adapta- 
tion to our happiness. 

Desire to hive, — It is a fact, that the longer we live 
the more we love to live. This would indicate that our 
world must be a place that affords more happiness than 
unhappiness. We do know that there is a great deal of 
unhappiness ; but this clinging to life is a sure confession 
of the human heart that life is a source of happiness. The 
love of life is so strong that even the old are seldom willing 
to die, unless for some great cause, or under some terrible 
disappointment. "My kingdom for a horse", was the 
crj^ of an agonized soul when death came nigh. ' 'Must I 
die", is the sad exclamation of the young and the old 
when the Reaper touches them with his terrible sickle. 

Suicide, — Even the suicide proves that he, too, values 
happiness. It is his iciihappiness that prompts to such a 
crime as self-murder. Suicide is so unnatural that the 
sentiment of all the world protests, and that the suicide 
often confesses himself in need of divine forgiveness. It 
is unnatural because it is an irrational and cowardly 



386 D K S I R K vS . 

search for happiness. It indicates extreme selfishness or 
insanit}'. 

2154* 

The desire to be happy has a three-fold mission i. To make 
us philanthropic. 2. To make us hope for immortality. 3. To 
make us morally cautious and persevering. 

A Three-Pold 3Iissioii, — Apart from the desire 
for personal happiness, this world would be a selfish, 
grasping world ; every one would seek to gratify his own 
aims even if he thus violated the most sacred rights of his 
fellow-men. Passion would hold a personal sway, and de- 
struction would be the one human characteristic. There 
would be a continual conflict between pleasure and duty. 

Second Design. — The desire to be happy, as was re- 
marked, includes the desire of life. This clinging to an 
earthly life, teaches the human heart to hope for a contin- 
uance of life beyond the grave. It is thus that the desire 
for happiness leads us to infer immortality, and to hope 
for it as a solution for all our sorrows. The hope of im- 
mortality is not a mockery. In our psychological consti- 
tution this hope is a divine endowment ; it is an outgrowth 
of the desire to escape from the thralls of an earthly life 
into a blissful beyond. The dying man thus pictures his 
future happiness. Already he sees the golden streets 
and the throne of God. 

Third Design.— The desire for happiness makes man 
morally cautious. Every person dreads unhappiness ; sin 
and error make us unhappy. Our desire for happiness in 
this world and in the world to come, teaches us to deny 
what many desires suggest. It is often a trial to deny 
ourselves ; but the moral satisfaction of obedience to con- 
science is so strong an incentive to right action, that men 
will suffer and die rather than lose the happiness of im- 
mortal bliss. 



DEvSIRES. 387 

255- 

Selfishness, irrational gratification and passion are violations 
of the desire to be happy. 

Depravity of Self-I/Ove. — When the soul forgets 
the happiness of others in the pursuit of personal happi- 
ness, the desire and its pursuit become damnable ; the 
consequent corruption soon reveals itself in our face and 
conduct. Selfish seekers after happiness are void of sym- 
pathy ; their face is hard, their eye is cold. Irrational 
gratification of the desire for happiness results from pas- 
sion or from a wrong reasoning as to what will make men 
happy. In this way the drunkard, the glutton, the sui- 
cide, and the debauchee, commit their frail bark into a 
whirlpool of passion, a whirlpool that sets the soul into 
the current of shame and ruin. 

//. THE DESIRE FOR PO WER. 

Desire for power is awakened by its delightful possession, and 
it is a mighty impulse in the conduct of the world. 

What is Power ? — It is the ability to do something. 
The words influence, cause, agency, etc., also mean power. 
We use the above words interchangeably. 

Origin of the Idea. — The idea of power comes to 
the child-mind in its perception of ejfcds. The child no- 
tices the antecedent volition or the contiguous circum- 
stance, and infers that the effect is the result of applied 
or exerted />^7wr. The child thus discovers its power to 
walk from chair to chair, without the aid of helping 
hands. This power is a delightful possession, and causes 
the child's faci to light up with smiles. From the first mo- 
ment of the experience that power is a source of enjov- 

17* 



388 DKsrRies. 

meiit, the child desires power. This desire becomes a 
mighty impui^sB in the conduct of the world. Indeed, 
the desire for power makes the child and the man uneasy, 
restless, active, energetic ; he delights in wrestling, box- 
ing, racing, mock wars, hunting, conquest of every kind. 
The delight of the child soon merges into the fiercer de- 
light of the mature man. 

The Strength and Effects. — It is so strong that, 
in comparison with other desires, it stands paramount in 
its influence upon the activity of the world. The desire 
for power has been the chief motive in the life-work of 
great historical characters such as Bismark, Napoleon, 
Alexander and others. The desire for power manifests 
itself in the peculiar impulses of bmuIvATion and ambi- 
tion. 

Emulation is the desire to excel companions and equals. Am- 
bition is the desire of power over men. 

Emulation, — The desire to excel is almost univer- 
sal. We all desire to excel some one near us. Kmula-' 
tion is thus made an incentive to study. The * 'trapping' ' 
system is an improper encouragement of emulation. If 
we could detect the limit of this system, it might be well 
enough to encourage class emulation ; but no one can 
with certainty tell how long emulation is a harmless 
thing. In itself, emulation is a laudable motive that 
prompts men to surpass companions and equals. As such, 
it is not necessarily connected with envy and selfishness ; 
but too often emulation becomes wedded to envy and 
selfishness. In this form, emulation is apt to involve man 
in a hateful conflict with his fellows. Emulation seldom 
seeks to surpass or to out- do an acknowledged superior. 
The classmate, the fellow- beggar, the member of the same 



D K S I R K S . 389 

profession, is the one to be excelled. Emulation is a na- 
tive impulse of the heart ; and, under due restraint, it 
may prompt men to seek the highest excellence, the loft- 
iest pinnacle of power, the noblest elevation of science 
and art. Emulation is, moreover, not inconsistent with 
due subordination. We never try to rival an acknowl- 
edged master ; we do not rival the power and wisdom of 
our Creator. 

Ambition. — The desire of power culminates in ambi- 
tion. The life-work of men who are ever seeking for 
power over men, is necessaril3^ an energetic life-work. 
Napoleon and Alexander are specimens of ambitious men. 
Ambition pervades the school, the court, the battle-field, 
the arena of government. It pervades every sphere of 
life and often becomes a passion. Passionate ambition 
stoops to conquer and often sacrifices duty, truth and 
sacred ties. The man who permits ambition to become 
his ruling impulse is a slave to the desire of power. 
Disappointment will be most galling to him ; and 
passionate ambition often ends in exile on St. Helena. 
Ambition ma}^ make a man pitiless, cruel, shameless and 
treacherous enough to sacrifice friend, army, state, and 
eternal happiness. 

Rational and Irrational Manifestations, — If 
rational, the desire for power values virtue. The orator 
and the teacher desire power to sway a multitude, to 
mould the pupil into a noble character. The honest ex- 
ercise of such power is a noble thing, and brings its own 
reward. Such an orator and such a teacher will always 
reap intense enjojmient from the exercise of his power. 
But he who desires power that he may gratify vanity, too 
often sells his own soul and that of his fellows. The 
selfish seeker after power becomes an Aaron Burr, a cor- 
rupt politician, a schemer. The desire for power pervades 
all humanity. Capital and I^abor seek power. On the 



390 DESIRES. 

one side is the result of monopoly ; on the other, ' 'Strikes". 
Revolutionary struggles for liberty are an outgrowth of 
this desire. Men seek wealth, esteem, knowledge, &c., 
to increase their power for good or for evil. 

///. THE DESIRE EOR KNO WLEDGE. 
2S58. 

The desire for knowledge is a universal impulse. Its moral 
value is determined by rational motives. 

Its Nature, — In the child this desire is simple curios- 
ity. Whatever is new to the child attracts its interest. 
Fables, stories, traveling, etc. ,. these gratify the child and 
the man. The child's desire for knowledge is an instinct- 
ive impulse to which but little moral value attaches. It 
is later on, when rational motive prompts the student to 
seek for knowledge, that his destine acquires a definite mor- 
al value. It is then either right or wrong according to 
the seeker's motives. Descartes, Newton, Edison and 
other great students, sought knowledge so that by means 
of it they might become a great power for good. The al- 
chemist, the burglar and the schemer, seek knowledge to 
use it for selfish and wicked purposes. 

The desire for knowledge makes the acquisition of knowledge 
a constant delight, and thus becomes a motive impulse. 

Its Mission, — The desire for knowledge is so universal- 
ly strong that we are surprised at an exception. The prac- 
tice of playing " truant" is hardly a native product. The 
child that does not desire knowledge surely seems to lack 
something. Parentage, physical debility or improper 
guidance account for most exceptions of this kind. As 



DE^vSIREvS. 391 

a rule, the desire for knowledge is universal. This fact 
indicates that God intended the desire to be a universal 
spring of action. Such a conclusion is strengthened by 
the common experience that the acquisition of knowledge 
is a never ending delight. One reason for such delight 
comes from the valuation of the poiver we acquire through 
knowledge ; the proper reason for this delight is to be 
found in our mental constitution. The desire for knowl- 
edge has a world-wide mission. It leads to great scholar- 
ship ; it underlies the dignity and appreciation of schools, 
authorship and learning. The desire for knowledge, 
joined to practical motives, gives to the world its inven- 
tors, artists, leaders. The desire for knowledge keeps 
bright God's image in the human mind. Evidently, 
through the handiworks of God we are to learn of his 
wisdom, power and goodness ; but, apart from such an 
implanted impulse as the desire for knowledge, these voices 
of God in nature would not be heard by the human race. 

IV. THE DESIRE FOR POSSESSION. 
260, 

The desire for possession is an original impulse that grows 
with the rational perception of advantage and power. 

Origin and Growth, — Possession indicates owner- 
ship of property, money, wealth, resources. The desire 
for ownership manifests itself early in life. The child is 
pleased with the ownership of a sled, a canary, a pony. 
The desire for ownership soon becomes a desire for money 
J^^s a representative medium of value. Children are de- 
lighted with their "bank", their "purse" ; they count 
their pennies and calculate how many delightful things 
can be procured with such money. With the develop- 
ment of the child-mind, comes the rational perception of 



392 D K S I R K S . 

advantage and pozaer as found in money ^ property, wealth. 
An estimation of these advantages leads to a growth of de- 
sire for possession. The mature man learns that ' ' mone}^ 
is power' ' ; that it unlocks the gateways to social station ; 
that it feeds genius ; that it tempts the thrones of nations. 
The rich man need but beckon with his little finger, and 
ships will sail for him, trains will speed for him from New 
York to the Golden Gate, and a fawning world will bow 
the knee. Indeed, there are btit few of this world's goods 
that can not be obtained for money. No wonder, then, 
that we speak of the ' ' mighty dollar' ' as if it were the 
' * sesame' ' at whose bidding the treasures of earth and 
sea poured themselves into the lap of the wealthy owner. 
The desire for possession takes several definite forms 
known as covktousnkss and avarick. 

2i6l, 

Covetousness desires money to lavish it on luxury. Avarice 
graspingly desires money, and odiously hoards it. 

Covetousness, — In its wider meaning, covetousness 
includes the desire for all that may gratify sense and rea- 
son. The Bible unsparingly condemns such desire, since 
it is a sel/ish and degrading life-impulse. Most men are 
somewhat covetous. Covetousness often unites with en- 
vy, and robs even a friend of his own. But in a limited 
sense, covetousness is the desire for money, with the 
thought of spending it for some cherished object. Indeed, 
the covetous man is often a vSpendthrift. The covetous 
man wants money, because with it he can plunge into 
pleasure, gluttony and into the dreams of passion. Cov- 
etousness is despicable and unprincipled ; it does not be- 
come a man, much less a sincere Christian. 

Avarice, — The strength of avarice is something remark- 
able ; but its irratio7ial character is far more remarkable. 



D K vS I R K S . 393 

Avarice pinches the miser's cheek, hardens his eyes and 
burdens his heart with ceaseless anxiety. Avarice odious- 
ly grasps money and then hoards it up, counts it over, 
gloats over it, fondles it, jingles it in its coffer, buries it 
in the earth. The avaricious man is an enemy to his own 
peace, and an object of contempt among men. His fami- 
1}^, if he ever marries, must live on rags and dry bread, 
his cattle suffer hunger, and his church is a constant an- 
noyance to him. The miser is selfishly seclusive, hides 
from those who need assistance, hears the hungry mother 
beg for bread and curses the beggar ; but he opens not his 
hand. The miser may even become a beggar, yea, may 
starve in his own hovel with his coffers untouched. The 
first steps which lead to avarice are often simple economy, 
covetousness, and anxiety to provide for a "rainy day". 
Indeed, men become misers before they know it, and 
would indignantly deny such a charge. Of all desires, 
avarice seems to be the most contemptible, the most irra- 
tional, the most cringing, the most insane and enslaving. 

The passionate and terrible strength of avarice is due to as- 
sociation and to regret for actual or possible loss. 

Strength of Avarice. — The miser associates his 
money with what it will purchase if he chooses. He thus 
learns to value the representative medium as much as the 
things he might purchase. This is a transfer of feeling, 
and often explains the first steps to avarice ; but this theo- 
ry of ASSOCIATION does not explain the passionate force 
of avarice. If association of money with that which it 
represents could make a man a miser, then the spendthrift 
should by and by become a miser. This is not often the 
case. The proper explanation seems to be that the miser 
calculates actual and possible losses. These losses he re- 



394 D EJ s i R e; s . 

GRETS more and more. Whenever he makes a purchase, 
he notices that what he purchases has only a transient 
value, and that his purchase soon represents a loss. He 
jrgrets the loss of money that might have secured for him 
a thousand coveted things ; and this possibility by and by 
becomes so real to him that he had almost rather starve 
than pay for perishable food, clothing, etc. This effect is 
greatly augmented when the miser sets his heart upon ac- 
quiring a certain round sum. Every purchase he makes 
breaks in upon this ideal, and disappoints his purpose. 
In anguish of heart, he refuses to unlock his coffers now ; 
he would rather beg and slave. 

The Dying Miser, — What scene so terrible as that 
of a miser growing old and feeble ! His eye perhaps is 
dim, but he still gazes upon his hoarded treasures ; his 
hand trembles upon his cane, but he still counts out the 
pieces of silver and gold ; his heart grows old and dies to 
the world, but its last throbs pulsate for money, money, 
MONEY. Death now comes on. In despair, he beholds 
his coffers pass into the hands of unloving relatives or 
other heirs ; his mind in delirium raves for money, and his 
last look through glazing eyes lingeringly rests upon his 
hoarded treasure. Thus the miser, old and gray, meets 
his God. 

263, 

The desire for possession has its mission in the support, re- 
lief, and elevation of mankind. 

Missions. — It is this desire that becomes the impulse 
of labor by hand and brain. And thus we earn our liv- 
ing, are able to relieve suffering and poverty, and may 
elevate ourselves and others into comfort and culture. The 
desire of possession should not lead to tramp and beggar 
life. The mission of propKRTy is to furnish material and 



D K S I R E vS . 395 

spiritual support to mankind. He who dcvsires money to 
use it as a steward of God, desires a good thing. There 
is a great deal of happiness in the world ; but there is al- 
so intense suffering all around us. He who desires prop- 
erty and money, that he may help the victims of storm and 
wave and fire and famine and war and disease, desires 
that which may make him a benefactor, a friend in need, 
a generous philanthropist. The higher destiny of mind 
demands material wealth. Education, culture, civiliza- 
tion, art, profession, &c., depend upon money. The 
young man who desires money for such high purposes, 
who can desire it and yet despise it, who knows the mis- 
sion of property and does not yield to its idol-magic, is 
more able to attain practical nobility. He whose desire 
for acquisition and accumulation of money is weak, may 
become a tramp or a beggar. Surely he can not under- 
stand his own interest, and the welfare of those dependent 
on him. To despise property, is to despise the steward- 
ship of our Father in heaven. Men and women should 
encourage the proper desire for possession. 

V. THE DESIRE FOR SOCIETY. 

264, 

The desire for companionship is an unselfish native impulse. 
Its manifestations are universal. 

Nature of the Desire for Society, — What is de- 
sired when we wish for society ? Is it the environment 
of a great many, the environment suited to display ? 
Sometimes this is true. Men and women are often so fond 
of display and excitement, .so fickle and shiftless that they 
are unhappy when they can not be in the public gaze, at 
the party, at the ball. He who desires society may, how- 
ever, 7tot be prompted by such motives. Previous to such 



39^ D K S I R K S . 

motives, even children desire society, companionship, as- 
sociation. To be "alone" is often an oppressive burden. 
SoiviTUDK is not naturally charming, though the noblest 
purpose may prompt men to solitude and seclusion. Of 
this we shall speak later on. The desire for companion- 
ship is not a selfish native impuLse. In its normal devel- 
opment it is a beautiful impulse. It underlies our best 
nature ; our social nature reaches out into the best efforts 
of life. The child, and even animals, desire companion- 
vShip. A child born on an island, left to itself, even if its 
physical wants could be supplied, would seek companion- 
ship. It would talk to the echoing rocks, to the rustling 
leaves, to the air, to the beast of the field, to the flower 
and shrub. Solitude often kills. It unstrings the nerves, 
it inspires fear and anguish, it leads to despair, it breaks 
the heart. The child that is brought up apart from com- 
panionship is deprived of much that makes life beautiful. 
Within a certain limit, the young should live in compan- 
ionship. Self-respect, kindness, more caution, and many 
beautiful things in life, make the fellowship of others a 
necessity to every man. It is on these grounds usually, 
if not always, better for students to have a chum. Not 
that we should never wish to be alone. Meditation, self- 
examination, and reflection, are things that belong to sol- 
itude. Science and art will flourish into precious growth 
in solitude. The German Bible had its birth there. 
Hobbes and other sceptic thinkers imagined that the de- 
sire for companionship was unqualified selfishness. Now, 
this does not follow at all. That Hobbes himself sought 
society from selfish motives, we do not doubt ; but not all 
men are like Hobbes. The desire for companionship is 
naturall}^ associated with the wish to beyiefit our associates. 
Our comrade, our chum, is to be a recipient of favors ; 
we are generally willing to share what we have with our 
associates. Indeed, the desire for companionship is an 



D K S I R K S. 397 

outgrowth of a reciprocal desire to communicate thought, 
to enlist sympathy, to find a kindred spirit, to lean on a 
loving friend. This is further shown by the fact that the 
desire for society usually changes into some benevolent af- 
fection. Our comrade, our chum, our classmate, our 
neighbor, quite often becomes our friend. Fellowship 
thus leads to friendship and even love. Men have in this 
way come to love even a mouse, a spider, a flower, a 
snake, a toad. Our heart rebels at the thought that such 
love of companionship could be a selfish thing. Such as- 
sociation ma}^ be loved for its pleasant outgrowths ; but 
the desire for companionship usually precedes all such 
considerations. Indeed, we must infer that the necessi- 
ties of our mental constitution would lead God to implant 
such an impulse. 

Hermit I/ife. — The only exception — and it is only 
apparently so — to the universal desire for companionship 
is found in hermit IvIFK. The impulse to live alone can 
not be natural ; for hermit life does not prove the absence 
of desire for companionship. Hermit life is the result of 
superstition, insanity, or fanatic conviction. Even the 
hermit confesses his desire for society. He may renounce 
the societ}^ of men, he may trample upon his affection, he 
may crucify his flesh ; but he still suffers the loss of fel- 
lowship. The elder lyce misanthropically renounced the 
companionship of men, but he found a substitute in his 
dogs ; Robinson Crusoe had his cats and goats ; the 
witch in "The Last Days of Pompeii", had for compan- 
ions a fox and a snake ; a French nobleman, who was 
long imprisoned, loved to watch a spider, in order that he 
might escape utter solitude ; Baron Trench loved a mouse, 
and Pellico was driven by solitude to talk to the walls of 
his prison, to the hills beyond, and to the very winds that 
roared outside. The passionate strength of this desire is 



398 DESIRES. 

something remarkable. Its manifestations are myriad- 
fold. 

265, 

The history of freedom and the history of prison life prove that 
the missions of our social desire are strength, culture, and hap- 
piness. 

Missions of the Social Desire. — It is a natural 
tendency of mankind and of animals to congregate in com- 
munities, cities, tribes, etc. The bee, the beaver, the ant, 
the laboring ox, are impelled by a desire for campanion- 
ship. Work is more easy and more enjoyable when there 
are comrades with us. Life would be almost unbearable 
if we were always alone. Prison life, confinement to a 
dungeon, is such a severe punishment because it removes 
the prisoner from all communication with his fellows. 
The prison system of several states has revealed most ter- 
rible results from total seclusion. Despair, insanity and 
death have resulted from confinement to dungeons. In- 
deed, total seclusion is simply inhuman. From the ne- 
cessity of companionship, we infer its mission; this mission 
lies especially in three things : strength, culture and hap- 
piness. He who has a comrade is less liable to despond, 
less liable to be incautious. A companion is a desired 
wdtness, a moral safeguard, a something that saves from 
violation of sacred impulses. Even the wicked desire 
companionship ; it seems to give them courage, energy, 
resolve. "In union there is strength'', is surely true as 
to companionship. Ctdture is a result of companionship. 
He who is always alone is likely to dwarf in intellect and 
character. Companionship furnishes the necessary men- 
tal friction for culture. Diamond is sharpened by dia- 
mond. Our happiness, too, is seriously affected by com- 
radeship. Few men and women would chose utter soli- 



DESIRES. 399 

tude. Sorrow, temptation, toil and suffering, are easier 
to bear when there is a companion in whom we can con- 
fide. The man who no longer desires companionship 
has fallen below the brute instincts ; he is either utterly 
insane or grievously unnatural and superstitious. It 
should be our constant aim to seek proper companions. 
In them lies a great deal of joy. When, however, a young 
man or woman becomes so fond of fellowship, that he can 
not bear to be alone for the sake of duty, then the desire 
for companionship becomes a passion. Only God must be 
our constant companion. Only God can cheer the soli- 
tude of sadness and sorrow. 

VI . THE DESIRE FOR ESTEEM, 

266. 

The desire for esteem is an original and universal impulse. It 
is operative prior to education or calculation. 

Nature and Origin of the Desire for Esteem, 

— Esteem is appreciation of our fellow- men ; it includes 
the approval of friend and foe ; it makes the child and the 
man watch for words of praise, for looks of respect, for 
the warm hand-grasp of congratulation. The desire for 
esteem induces men to seek for 2, good name, a good repu- 
tation. Public applause and glory add a thrilling delight 
to successful effort on the stage or in the quiet school-room. 
The desire for esteem is a desire for the love of all our 
fellow-men. In this respect, it differs from what is known 
as love. In its extended sense, this desire is a longing 
for glory, honor, fame. The heart droops under the with- 
ering looks of blame, reproach, infamy, and scorn. Very 
few men are indifferent to the esteem of others. The im- 
pulse is characterized as an original and universal en- 
dowment of the heart. This is shown by child-life and 



400 D K S I R :E s . 

brute-life. The early manifestation and the strength of 
the desire for praise indicates clearly that it is not an 
acquired impulse. 

Desire for Esteem Unselfish. — The little child 
listens with delight to words of praise, and even a brute 
is susceptible to shame ; nor is this impulse absent from 
any heart. The savage and the educated philosopher 
alike feel delighted when men speak well of them. Ap- 
probation cheers the heart. Success and constant toil are 
sweeter when approving voices meet our ear. Even the 
criminal on the gallows, shrinks with a sense of chilling 
unrest from the gaze of a condemning multitude. The 
desire for esteem can not be a selfish impulse in its origi- 
nal manifestations. This is seen in the conduct of those 
who wish to be well thought of by posterity. The words 
of a dying parent to his child, "Remember me", indicate 
the nature of this impulse. Surely, to be remembered 
brings no gain to the departed one ! lyong before a child 
is mature enough to calculate the effects of esteem, his 
heart throbs with pleasure, and his cheek flushes with 
excitement under the approving voice of mother. And 
when all thoughts of selfish calculation have faded out of 
the heart, the departing soul fondly gazes into the faces 
of those who say ' 'well done' ' , my dying brother. 

The desire for esteem leads to manifold conduct. The de- 
parting soul desires the tribute of an immortal name. 

Manifestations, — The desire for esteem makes moth- 
er' s reproachful look a potent safeguard for her child ; the 
school- boy whistles a jolly air when he recalls his teach- 
er's praise ; the teacher feels repaid for all his patient en- 
durance if he knows that his pupils and patrons esteem 
him. Ksteem is often preferred above money. The Bible 



41 



DE)SIRKS. 401 

tells us that "a good name is rather to be chosen than 
great riches". Position, office, and acknowledged leader- 
ship, have a charm because such positions are the re- 
wards of approving fellow- men. Honor and glory add 
much to our cup of earthly joys. Bismark, on his seven- 
ty-fifth birthday, wept for joy when he felt the esteem of 
his country-men. Garfield died happier with the knowl- 
edge that America and Europe approved of his life-work. 
Public applause, when it is unfeigned, adds fire to the 
orator's words, gives courage to all the departments of 
duty. The desire for esteem is so strong that shame and 
reproach are almost unendurable. The drunkard dreads 
the reproachful looks of his wife, his child, his neighbor. 
Shame, incurred by men who have long enjoyed the con- 
fidence of their fellows, causes illness of body, drooping 
hearts, voluntary exile, despair, insanity, suicide. The 
defaulting cashier, the embezzler, the hypocrite, suffers 
the loss of esteem as much as the loss of liberty. Infamy 
and disgrace often make life an unendurable burden. 
Even the innocent man, when falsely accused, when 
wrongly suspected, withers under the undeserved gaze of 
scorn in the face of a false friend. When the whole world 
cries "shame", the courage of consistent manhood often 
depends on a single voice of approval. If that voice be 
th at of a beloved friend, what strength it adds to an ach- 
ing heart ! No man would despise the garlands of fond 
remembrance, tenderly laid on his grave. Valueless 
from a rational stand-point are such garlands ; but we 
nearly all desire some little token of such remembrance. 
The tombstones of our cemeteries and the monuments of 
Gettysburg are visible words of praise and remembrance. 
The living thus honor and recall the departed. The cus- 
tom will never die out. Even the exceptions sometimes 
enumerated prove this rule. Under oppression and pov- 
erty, a man may do that which will rob him of esteem ; 



402 D E vS I R B S . 

but the very pressure that prompted him measured the 
weight of his sacrifice. The criminal's creed, "I've got 
the name — I'll bear the blame", shows the despairing reck- 
lessness of men who are no longer impelled by the desire 
for esteem. The desire for famb, the desire to be remem- 
bered and loved when we are gone, is not a desire born of 
fa7icy or fostered by illusion. The dying hero does not 
imagine that by imagination he stands by his grave to 
look upon the garlands of honor. Such a fancy might 
possess a child ; but surely not actuate a man. Nor is the 
desire for fame bom from the thought that the praise of 
others confirms our own good opinion of ourselves ; for, 
unless we deserve praise, all such praise would only con- 
tradict our own thoughts. Praise given to a man who 
knows he does not deserve it surely is not desirable as a 
confirmation of self- excellence. 

Z6S. 

The desire for esteem has its mission in social and moral 
purity; but a passion for praise weakens character. 

Mission. — The mission of the desire for esteem is man- 
ifold. It may be summed up briefly as a?i impulse to 
right condiict. Social and political purity are more easily 
maintained under the desire for esteem. Earthly pleasures 
mean but little when they rob us of respect or our good 
name. Character is a more lovable possession when it 
wins for us a good reputation. On the other hand, it is 
equally true that a passion for praise weakens character. 
That man who waits for rewards of praise after every ef- 
fort, is not only vain, but also weak. In such a one, we 
must not expect to find a strong manhood. Public opin- 
ion and popular applause may add to our enjoyment, but 
are not the measures of consistent manhood. The courage 
of conviction must not be quenched, though the whole 



D K S I R K S . 403 

world deride us. The leaders in science and morality dare 
not judge of their success by the amount of praise or 
blame heaped upon them. A garlanded reputation does 
not always cover a noble, Christian character. It is, 
however, also true that disregard for the opinion of good 
men often leads to the gallows. 

. VII . HOPE. 

Hope is a desire for an agreeable and future something when 
that something is regarded a possible attainment. 

Nature of Hope. — The characteristic elements of 
hope are dksire and kxpKCTANcy. Hope is thus a7iy 
desire phis expectayicy . Every desire does not become a 
hope or remain a hope. When the agreeable something 
is not regarded as a possible attainment ; or, in other 
w^ords, when expectancy is absent, there is no hope. Ex- 
pectancy does not refer to simple absence, but to the future. 
Hope always looks forward. 

Things Hoped Por, — These are as numerous as 
the objects of desire. We are inclined to hope for the 
agreeable future ; we often ' ' hope against hope' ' ; we are 
impelled by hope even when reason has flown. Nothing 
can permanently drive hope from her throne in our hearts. 
It is almost impossible to do justice to the topic in hand. 
Hope has such a powerful influence upon our life, is so 
subtle in its operation, and burns with such fierce inten- 
sity in human lives, that only angelic oratory could trace 
its mission. Indeed, no affection or desire could long be 
a spring of action, apart from that thing which we call 
HOPK. 



18 



404 D K vS I R K S 



^70. 



Hope grows more ardent when reason or fancy instils the be- 
lief that the object desired is essential to happiness. 

Growing Ardency of Hope, — Hope is a fire in 
the soul, that flames up especially when the desired object 
is believed to be important to our happiness. This belief 
may be rational or fanciful. Whatever our definition of 
happiness may be, we hope for those things that really 
are, or seem to be, essentials of that happiness. On first 
thought, we may conclude that the mazy tracing of hopes, 
belongs to th^ poet and novelist ; but on second thought, 
we must confess that the study of hope is of intense im- 
portance in every department of life. No man or woman 
could smile or sing if hope were dead. The smile would 
change into anguish, and the song would become a bitter 
lament. Let us, then, notice this central force of our lives 
and trace its manifold presence wherever man makes an 
effort. 

Manifestations. — The captive hopes for nothing so 
much as for liberation. Freedom is an agreeable and fu- 
ture something with regard to which he will not despair ; 
fear may make his hope more intense because reason has 
instilled the conviction that freedom is an element of hap- 
piness. Hope thus keeps the captive watchful, waiting. 
The fond mother hopes that her son may develop into a 
grand and noble manhood. This hope prompts her to 
watch her son, to counsel him, to inspire him with high 
motives. The drunkard hopes to escape his bondage and 
thus confesses his disapproval of his life. Fear of failure 
to give up the poisoned cup makes him flee to God in 
humble prayer. This prayer, this pledge is the ciy of 
hope. The sick man hopes against hope for returning 
health. This hope aids him in his suffering, makes his 
will more firm, and his heart more cheerful. The young 



D K S I R K S . 405 

man hopes for success and honor. Such hope gives color 
to his cheek, brightens his eye, and nerves his hand. He 
is willing to brave storm and sea to realize his darling 
hopes. In fancy he looks upon his future manhood, and 
sees, after the electric storms that swept over the spring- 
time of his life, every hill and valley covered with new- 
born buds and blossoms. Riches, office, home and hap- 
piness, beckon him as the wild rose beckons lovers of 
flowers. 

J^xaggeration. — A peculiar element of hope and fear 
is exaggeration. That which we hope for is thus magni- 
fied. In such cases hope is blamed as an inspiring de- 
ceiver ; but it is exaggeration that deserves the blame. 
A proper estimation of the real value of riches, office, suc- 
cess, etc., will save hope from deceiving. It is often em- 
phatically stated that anticipation is more pleasing than 
possession. This is neither reasonable nor usual. 

Even if the pleasures of hope seem to surpass the pleasures 
of reality, the sorrowing millions are ever clinging to her throne. 

Anticipation vs. Keal Possession, — The cobbler 
in his usual poverty, sings and whistles while he drives 
his tacks. A sudden fortune changes him completely. 
He hoped for riches ; but now that he has them, he seems 
to be disappointed. It must be noticed here that his 
hopes did not deceive, but that what he had hoped for 
brought with it unhoped for cares and anxieties. These 
unhoped for things give him fear and uneasiness. His 
riches give him the pleasure he expected ; otherwise he 
would not fear to lose them. The elder Lee hoped for 
rapid promotion. When that promotion did not come, 
7vhen his hopes were deferred, he renounced mankind and 
became a misanthrope. 



4o6 D K S I R K S . 

Impatience. — Impatience is a feeling that may be 
called unsatisfied hope. Impatience is a good thing or a 
bad thing according to its motives and intensity. Rea- 
sonable impatience makes the young man active, energetic, 
intolerant of negligence and sloth. But violent impatience 
is unreasonable and reckless. It drove lyee into exile ; it 
drives many a man to failure in ambition. Governor 
Beaver would never have become governor, had he not been 
unusually patient. 

Mission, — It is the mission of hope to encourage prop- 
er labor and to cheer a sorrowing world. It is hope that 
leads the farmer to sow in Spring time. He hopes for the 
Autumn harvest. The mother of the kidnapped Charley 
Ross is cheered in her lonely heart by the hope that per- 
haps the darling boy may some day be recovered. It 
makes her watch and wait and seek, thus increasing the 
chances of his recovery, and helping her bear her life-long 
burden. 

Despair, — Despondency is a terrible thing. It robs 
us of nerve and will ; it lessens our chance of success ; it 
even leads to insanity and unnatural death. A great sor- 
row may drive hope from her throne and craze the mind. 
Despair has thus often fi/led the asylums for the insane. 

The Maniac^ s Returning Hope, — But hope can 
not be driven long from any heart. Kven the maniac 
looks from his grated window, — looks with an expectant 
look, out upon the world beyond him. The once happy 
maiden has lost her loved one. The wild waves have 
buried him in an ocean grave ; but she only believes this 
fate until despair has driven her into insanity. Then hope 
returns to her heart ; she lights a beacon fire on the moun- 
tain top ; she waits again for the one who can never come 
back to her. Oh, sacred Angel of the heart ! Hope, 
thou art a beautiful thing, cheering even the saddest 
hearts ! 



D p: S I R IC s . 407 

Hope a Reasonable Impulse. — This life's hopes 
may not bring us the pleasures we think ; but to give up 
hope is to give up everything. The pleasures of hope 
may surpass the pleasures of reality ; but hope is not 
therefore a useless life-impulse ; after all, it prompts us to 
do much that will bring us happiness. If a man who 
hoped to gain a million, should renounce half a million 
simply because it was not a whole million, how foolish he 
would be ! Just so is that man foolish who does not per- 
mit hope to buoy him up in this world. 

Hope Beyond, — The Christian's hope is after all the 
highest and best. The infidel's hope dies with his body ; 
the Christian's hope lives beyond the grave. The sceptic 
grows cold when he dreams that there may be ' ' No Hope 
Beyond" ; the Christian sees in firm hope a solution of 
life's mysteries. We can not deny that life is a compli- 
cated web ; it is a problem whose solution puzzles the 
wisest men. The noblest soul may stagger at the mean- 
ing of personal affliction and sorrow ; but his heart is hap- 
pier when Hope Beyond dawns in the horizon of his even- 
ing of life. " Hope Beyond " can not be a dream. If so, 
it must be the most cruel mockery in human breasts. 
Hope is so universally strong that it must be a beckoning 
voice from God's throne. The hope of heaven has made 
the sorrows of many sufferers endurable for the brief space 
of our ' ' three score years and ten' ' . Apart from such 
hope, this world must be a wilderness,of only tears. Head 
and heart rebel against such an insinuation against the 
goodness of God. 

VIII. FEAR. 



272, 

Fear is an aversion toward a disagreeable and future some- 
thing when that something is regarded a possible attainment. 



4o8 D K S I R E S . 

Nature of F'ear, — Fear is the direct opposite to hope. 
Hope gives place to fear when the desired object is no 
longer attainable. The peculiar elements of fear are 
AVERSION and expectancy. The aversion is directed 
toward a disagreeable something, and the expectancy is a 
dread anticipation. We fear those things which belong to 
the FUTURE, and which may make us unhappy. Our 
fear grows more intense when we bewEVE the expected 
something to be a great evil. The loss of health and the 
loss of life are things of great importance, and we fear 
these things accordingly. In like manner, do we fear 
punishment, suffering, disappointment. Our hopes are 
constantly checked by the adinixture of fear. The real or 
fancied importance of anything dreaded, measures the in- 
tensit}^ of fear. KxAGGERxiTioN is as usual as in the case 
of hope. Fear, under exaggeration, kills body and soul, 
turns gray the hair of the condemned prisoner, and para- 
lyzes the warrior's mighty heart. The strength of fear in- 
dicates its MISSION and its danger. While the mission of 
fear is to make men and animals cautious, prudent, firm 
and upright, undue fear may yield to vice and shame. 
The fearful heart gives up a noble resolve ; the excessive- 
ly fearful man is a coward. How we despise a coward ! 
He who would win the approval of consistent manhood 
must not easily yield to fear. The man who is faint- 
hearted is often a fool or a knave. The man who fears 
nothing is often foolhardy. Such a man will mistake 
BOLDNESS for bravery ; will risk his life when he has no 
moral right to risk it, will betray an army to save his own 
vile carcass. The question is sometimes asked whether 
HOPE OR PEAR has a stronger influence upon a man's life. 
This depends largely upon the individual. The sanguine 
temperament, looking on the bright side, is more influ- 
enced by hope ; the bilious temperament is perhaps more 
influenced by fear. In the constitution of moral and 



DESIRES. 409 

Christian character, hope should liold a higher place than 
fear. The fear of eternal punishment is the most terrify- 
ing life-impulse. 

CUL TIVA TION OF THE EMO TIONAL NA TURE. 

2:73- 

The feelings are springs of action, and must be cultivated by 
direction, moderation, and holy motives. 

Springs of Action. — In the three- fold economy of 
tJioiight, feeling, 2.\\d. volition, we detect the missions of an 
emotional nature. The missions of our feelings have been 
pointed out in preceding discussions. Certain it is that 
too little attention is paid to the cultivation of the higher 
and nobler feelings. Educational provisions seem to be 
wholly intended for the improvement of the head and the 
hand. If the feelings are springs of action, the}- constitute 
the impulses to actual character. 

Intelligent Direction. — We have learned that all 
feelings have their origin in ideas and thoughts. Ac- 
cordingly, any particular feeling and its nature must de- 
pend more or less upon intelligent direction. By this is 
meant that we can, by directing our thoughts, determine 
to a great extent what shall be our feelings and their na- 
ture. For such an intelligent direction we are certainly 
responsible in ourselves and in our schools. 

Moral Motives. — When any feeling is encouraged to 
extremes ; when the heart is urged beyond moderation, 
man launches into the storm waves of passion. While it 
is usually proper to encourage all the higher and nobler 
feelings such as sympathy, self-respect, admiration of aes- 
thetic and ethical things, the benevolent affections, rea- 
sonable indignation, and all the bCvSt desires, even these 
when urged beyond moderation may become degrading 
forces in character and manhood. It is therefore quite im- 



4IO D K vS I K K S . 

portaiit to exercise the heart in obedience to lofty moral 
motives. Reason and duty should become our rule in 
feelings. We should aim to check any feeling that 
prompts to doubtful morality. In this respect, teachers 
and parents can not be too cautious. Every young man 
and every young woman should be urged to detect the 
strong impulses of his heart ; if these are in harmony with 
God's holy Book and in harmony with noble judgment, 
all is well ; but if his affections and longings are not in 
harmony with ideal character and with God's word, every 
man should learn in grace to govern his heart for his God. 
Missions of Emotional Culture, — Since every 
feeling has its origin in some idea or some thought, all 
THOUGPiT is, in turn, toned and colored with sentiment. 
In this way our feelings give zest to our thoughts and 
keep them from becoming sluggish ; men of lively feelings 
are usually men of quick and bright thoughts. The feel- 
ings link our thoughts to the wii.iv ; feelings are the im- 
pulsive preparation for c/ioice and volition. If, then, our 
higher feelings have received culture, we may choose and 
will our conduct more nobly. Conscience is more sensi- 
tive and more discriminative when lively feeling is urged 
into her decisions. Our morai. worth is affected by our 
ethical emotions. RkIvIGion is as much a thing of the 
heart as of the head and will. If piety and the nobler af- 
fections and desires are cultivated in prayer and holy liv- 
ing, our religion must become a beautiful life -impulse. 
The PRODUCTS of CA^ery life depend greatly upon feeling. 
Toil is sweeter when we enter it with feeling ; oratory be- 
comes an irresistible storm when rightly projected from 
the heart ; literature becomes warm and winsome, en- 
nobling and'agitating, humorous or pathetic, according 
to the heart-impulse that projects it ; and the relations of 
life become something other than skeletori and selfishness, 
when touched by cultivated feelings. 



PART THIRD.— THE WILL. 



^74- 

It is difficult and important to understand the nature and the 
mission of the Will. 

A Dimcult Study,— The subtle relation of the will 
to other psychological phenomena, its universal mission 
in the economy of life and destiny, and the infinite variety 
of its application, make the study of the human will strik- 
ingly difficult. The numerous controversies about the 
freedom of the will, and the subsequent diversity of opinion, 
are the world's confession that it is no easy matter to set 
forth a satisfactory explanation of our voluntary nature. 
The drift of modern controversy, however, shows a grad- 
ual assimilation of belief in man' s freedo77i. Modern 
writers on psychology seem to be willing to lay aside all 
fantastic exposition of the will, and to base the doctrine 
of the will on a scientific induction of voluntary phe- 
nomena. In other words, it is the spirit of modern psy- 
chology to take a common-sense view of the will. The 
recognized sources of information are thus granted to be 
consciousness and observation. The student must, how- 
ever, be ready to lay aside all preconceived notions in this 
investigation ; he must base his conclusions on an accu- 
rate induction. 

An Important Study, — It is important to under- 
stand the nature and mission of the will. This is true in 
i8* 



412 THKWII.Iv. 

at least four re.spects, growing out of the mission of our 
voluntary nature. We will enumerate these respects as 
follows : psychological, practical, ethical and theological. 

Psychological, — The will is important in a psycho- 
logical sense : upon its function depend the intentional 
activities of all mental powers. It is difficult to see how 
simple intellect could effect anything apart from will ; for 
if our mind were a combination only of intellect and sensi- 
bility, there would be no determinative, no mental execu- 
tive power. A mind thus constituted would in many re- 
spects be inferior to brute instinct. Animals, as we learn 
from natural history, are almost unerring in matters per- 
taining to animal missions. But man, though endowed 
with thought 2ind feeling , would be at the mercy of slug- 
gish reason and irresistible desires. Indeed, what would 
be the condition of a human being, upon the throne of 
whose mind there should be no will, may be inferred from 
debauchery and other yieldings to passion. Of all sad 
pictures in the gallery of life, that is the saddest from 
which the human will has been blotted. 

Practical. — It is important to understand the practi- 
cal mission of the will. As the arbiter of human conduct 
and human possibilities, the will assumes a pre-eminence 
that must be recognized. We can easily imagine a being 
possessed of only thought and feeling : thought alone 
would make a life of calm contemplation the only possi- 
bility. The addition of feeling would add impulse to con- 
templation ; but all conduct and character would be a 
chaotic conglomeration. Practically considered, the will 
^w^"^ direction to our impulses, centralizes thought and 
physical energy, adds perseverance to genius, gives pa- 
tient endurance to authorship, discovery, government, and 
daily toils. 

Ethical. — An act is not our own until we make it so 
by volition. Clearly we can be responsible only for such 



THKWII.I.. 4^3 

acts as possess a voluntary character ; but whatever does 
possess voluntary character, whether it be a thought, feel- 
ing or action, enters the category of responsible things. 
Conscience must, of course, point out moral obligations ; 
but it is the distinct mission of the will to execute such 
right or wrong. Our will makes us free agents. Moral 
Philosophy is an exposition of these facts. 

Theological. — Man's obedience to God, and man's 
views on the destiu}^ of an immortal soul, depend on man's 
views as to freedom of the will. Here Theology must 
learn at the feet of Psychology, 

The will is the determinative and executive power of the mind. 

Two Inunctions, — The will is determinative when 
the mind chooses one of several possible things ; the will is 
executive when the mind moves to carry out its choice. 
Determination is an initial volition, and mental execution 
is 2. final volition. 

Illitstration. — ^Julia is asked to sing a solo ; she consents 
to sing and mentally moves to sing. Her consent is a vo- 
lition, a determination ; her mental movement to carry 
out the choice, is a volition, a mental execution. Deter- 
mination, the initial volition will have one of three des- 
tinies. 

THREE DESTINIES OF A CHOICE. 

276, 

The initial volition may be prolonged into a final volition. 

First Destiny. — The initial volition, ordinarily called 
choice, is prolonged into a final volition when desire or 
duty, either o?te or both, prompt a mental execution. In 



414 TH K WI I.I.. 

this case a man "has not changed his mind." The re- 
sult of a choice thus prolonged into a final volition, is 
either internal or external, mental or physical. Histoi-y 
records the resultant products ; they are such things as 
thinking, talking, murder, studying, battles, etc. 

Z77' 
The initial volition may end in simple preference. 

Second Destiny, — Choice ends in simple preference 
when dzify calls up reflections of prudence; when other wills 
are in superior opposition to ours ; when no proper occa- 
sion presents itself for external execution ; when we step 
beyond the domain of human mission ; and when death, 
distance, futurity, or some other item, stands in the way 
of voluntary action. In this case, there is actual pref- 
erence, voluntary decision, rational choice ; but there is 
710 executive volition. In an ethical sense, such an initial 
volition has a moral significance. Conscience would 
tremble if compelled to lay bare all our simple prefer- 
ences ; and the effects of such unexecuted choices is as 
far-reaching as the domain of mind and heredity. These 
simple preferences may make our character a terrible soil 
for wicked actions in life. 

The initial volition may give place to another choice. 

T^hird Destiny. — This proposition states what we 
mean b}' change of mind. We may change our mind for 
better or for worse. To such a change of mind we ma}^ 
be prompted by motives of inclination or hy motives of 
duty ; we ma)' halt 1)etween two great heart-forces, and, 
when more thoroughly informed as to the consequences 
pf an execution of our choice, we may convert a real choice 



TH^ WILI.. 415 

into a better or worse. This second choice may be urged 
by prudence, conscience, affection, argument and other mo- 
tives ; between these motives the mind freely makes a 
second choice rather than execute a previous choice. This 
second choice often implies a complete change of mind, 
affecting intellect, feeling and will. The time required 
for such change of mind, varies with environment, tem- 
perament, education, and character. 

ANALYTIC ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE 
DESTINIES OF A CHOICE. 

Remarks, — To illustrate the three destinies of an in- 
itial volition ; to enumerate data for an inductive study of 
the will ; to distinguish accurately between the conditio7is 
of voluntary action and the real functions of will, — these 
matters are both important and difficult. We shall select 
several concrete examples for analysis. 

The Candidate for Office, — Inclination or a sense 
of duty may prompt the man to be a candidate for office. 
Here is an knd to be accomplished — something to be 
done. The active influences in the mind of the candidate 
are' MOTIVES ; these motives are rational reasons that can 
be resisted ; they are impulses that urge, prompt, induce, 
and incline. The candidate acts as if he believed in lib- 
erty of selection ; he deliberates, weighs, balances, hes- 
itates, makes up his mind. To make up his mind, is to 
determine, to decide, to put forth a preference, to have a 
choice, to make what we have called an iniTiaIv voIvI- 
TiON. The candidate is now willing, in mood at least, to 
work for his election to an office. If his choice precedes the 
time for election, he cherishes this choice, fortifies it with 
arguments of approval, and awaits the active campaign. 
When the campaign opens and the convention nominates 
him, he does not change his mind ; he has prolonged his 



4i6 THK WII.I.. 

choice into a finai, voIvITion. In this final volition his 
choice has become e^nphatic ; as an index of this, he be- 
comes active in his own interests, makes efforts, and 
strives to accomplish or execute his choice. All he does 
and says in his behalf is an external index of an internal 
or mental execution ; it reveals his final volition. This 
final volition is a complete mental execution of a choice, 
even if he fails to be elected. The final volition was also 
a free act ; he could have changed his mind ; he could 
have decided otherwise ; he* could have passively deferred 
his choice to a later age. In the mental experience of 
this candidate, we may detect an end to be accomplished, 
rational motives, an initial and a final volition. 

Choice of a Profession. — When a young man 
comes to inquire what his mission in this world may be ; 
when his parents and friends urge him to choose a pro- 
fession, he begins to deliberate between inclinations and 
arguments. In this deliberation he notices diversity of 
fortune in the active pursuits of life ; he recognizes a cer- 
tain liberty of selection between such fortunes ; he delib- 
erates, hesitates, determines approximately ; his choice 
lies between teaching and preaching. Into his delibera- 
tion enter such motives as temperament, companion- 
ship, community, financial resources, health, talent, voice 
and other items. After deliberating upon these motives, 
he prefers to become a teacher, makes up his mind, deter- 
mines or decides. Other wills may oppose this choice, 
this initial volition ; policy or prudence may make him 
hesitate ; loss of property, loss of health or voice or life, 
may make it certain that the initial volition, or choice, 
will never be prolonged into a final volition. A choice 
there was, but no executive volition : the determinative 
function of the will was performed, but the choice was 
not developed into mental execution ; there was an end 



THK W IIvI. . 417 

to accomplish, and motives to balance, and a choice, but 
no final volition. 

The Prodigal Son. — The prodigal son, after hesi- 
tating between desire and duty, chooses to leave his 
father's home and to live in a strange land f/ie rest ^his 
life. The index of his choice now appears : he asks for 
his portion of the paternal inheritance, and takes a care- 
less leave of those who belong to him. At first he never 
allows himself to think of a possible return in penitence 
and meekness ; his proud and passion-loving soul scorns 
such warnings of prudence. By and by he begins to 
starve ; his humble occupation becomes a degradation ; he 
feels that he is an outcast ; and his heart bows in penitent 
regret. He now again deliberates upon the question of 
living in a strange land and away from his father ; other 
motives, other calculations, have entered his life ; he 
changes his mind ; he is going back to his father ; he will 
throw himself on his father's neck and weep bitter tears 
of sincere penitence. Additional knowledge of the world's 
cold reception, recollection of his father's breaking heart, 
and other items, urge the prodigal to change his mind. 
In the bitter experience of the wandering prodigal we 
have again found an end to be accomplished, free deliber- 
ation upon motives, and an initial volition ; but the initial 
volition gives place to another volition. 

The three destinies of a choice are proud prerogatives 
of rational and immortal mind. The natural destiny of a 
choice is its executive volition, and in the possibility of an 
executive volition lies the basis of moral freedom and re- 
sponsibilit3^ What a saving provision for humanity it is, 
that some choices end in simple preference ! But to be 
able to change o?ie's wzV^^ voluntarily and to choose a dif- 
ferent life-course, is indeed the essential prerogative of a 
moral being. Our choices are not irrevocable : we can 
recall them before some sinful act forever records them 



4i8 the: will . 

upon the pages of character. In the possibility of recall- 
ing a choice lies the possibility of a better life, a maturer 
character, a nobler and grander manhood ; in it also lies 
the possibility of untold moral degradation. 

We might now analyze, in a similar way, a large num- 
ber of voluntary historical actions, but prefer to let the 
student try it. For the sake of suggestion, we enumerate 
the following topics : suicide, murder, total abstinence, a 
duel, civil war, the declaration of independence, martyr- 
dom, and personal reformation. 

/. DETAILED ANALYSIS OF THE WILL. 

A. ENDS OF VOLITION. 

The ends to be accomplished by volition are as numerous as 
the aims and missions of men. 

Nature of Mtids, — An end is something aimed at, 
something to be done, something to engage the energies 
of a rational being. In order to accomplish such ends, we 
voluntarily enter into active effort ; such effort is not real- 
ly our own, unless we impress upon it the mark of our will. 
The more decisively we impress our will upon our life- en- 
ergies, the more likely we shall be to accomplish the ends 
for which we were created. 

B. MOTIVES. 

280, 

A motive is any reason for a voluntary choice. 

Definition of Motives, — A motive is rather a rea- 
son than a cause. A reason is resistible ; but a cause is ir- 
resistible. A reason may urge, prompt, inspire; but it is 



THK WILL. 419 

never irresistible in its impulse. A cause in the proper 
sense, is an irresistible impulse, like the force of gravita- 
tion. A reason is an influence in the domain of mind ; 
but causes may abound external to the mind. The dis- 
tinction between a reason and a cause lies at the basis of 
a proper conception of human freedom. Motives that can 
not be resisted would make man a slave. That motives 
are resistible impulses, is proved from consciousness and 
from the records of human conduct. Consciottsness affirms 
that the mind regards itself able to resist this or that mo- 
tive in a deliberation previous to choice. Human conduct 
conforms with the belief that our choices are made freely 
between resistible motives. 

281. 

All motives have their origin in animal and rational desires, 
or in man's original sense of duty. 

Origin of Motives, — We have learned that the de- 
sires are springs of action. They are impulses that 
prompt us to do this or that, in order that we may gratify 
some longing of the heart. Head and hand will often 
move in williyig obedience to the inspiration of heart- im- 
pulses. Both the animal and the rational desires thus 
constitute motives for voluntary choices. The desirable, 
whether it be in the line of appetite and passion, or in the 
line of the greatest apparent good, is the source of many 
motives : hope and fear sway the mind this way and that ; 
self-love, curiosity, emulation, ambition, covetousness, 
avarice, fame, the affections, &c., are mighty motives in 
the human heart. Especially in our childhood and youth, 
do the desires prompt our voluntary decisions. Even in 
maturer years, when reason and conscience have been en- 
lightened, we are often strangely disobedient to the voice 
of duty. What the heart desires and hopes for, looks so 



420 T H E W 1 1. Iv . 

precious that it often seems also right to choose it. As 
we grow older, it is the triumph of mature manhood to do 
only that which is prompted by a sense of duty. This 
seems to be the psychological destiny of mind ; but by ir- 
rational exercise and foolish abuse of our will, the desires 
too often are the most urgent life principles. Our native 
sense of obi,igation is, never-the-less, a potent source of 
rational motives. In our study of the mental formula of 
moral action we found, that among the intuitive endow- 
ments of Reason, was the idea of obligation ; and that the 
idea of duty was followed by 2i feeling of duty. The feel- 
ing of obligation is a very powerful motive in human con- 
duct. Though false education and blindness of the natu- 
ral man rob the Conscience of moral accuracy, her voice 
is still strong enough to make even the criminal prudent 
in his voluntary choices. Religious systems and wild 
superstitions have much to do with the elevation or deg- 
radation of human motives. What seems duty to the en- 
thusiast and the fanatic, does not seem duty to their op- 
posites. Duty, however, under all these modifications is 
the most rational source of motives. 

Motives of desire may conflict with motives of duty. This 
conflict is often intense and serious. 

Conflict of Motives. — This is a conflict between 
"like" and "ought." Kvery honest mind knows the in- 
tensity of such a struggle. To deny one's self the things 
that would satisfy longing, is not an easy matter. So 
hard is it to decide between pleasure and right, that life 
seems like a mystic problem only to be solved by gratifi- 
cation. Our choice in this conflict is often reluctant. 
I/ike lyOt, we look back upon what we might enjoy, and 
with a sceptic's smile we try to face a life of duty. 



THKWII.Iv. 421 

When "like" prevails over "ought", our will becomes 
gradually weaker, our conduct blamable, and remorse 
overwhelms the soul. The dregs of disappointment fill 
our cup at the close of a life of pleasure. When "ought" 
prevails, the heart may ache for a moment, sorrow may 
shed a tear or two ; but, after a little reflection, sweet 
peace and precious restfulness warm the heart into an al- 
tar of praise. This conflict is not only intense ; but often 
serious unto death, that of character, reputation, or even 
the body. 

283. 

Unison of motives is a psychological mission. Its fruit is the 
original ideal character. 

Unison of Motives, — When desire and duty join 
hands, life is a happy dream, a stream of holy bliss, a 
communion of man with Him who made us to love him 
and to enjoy him forever. The constitution of the hu- 
man mind indicates an intended harmony of thought, 
feeling and volition. Psychologically, there should be 
no conflict between desire and duty ; but practically, there 
is. God evidently meant that thought should make us 
rational, that feeling should make us a living soul, and 
that volition should make us a self- determining agency. 
When desire and duty are in unison, we approach again 
the ideal character modelled after God's own image. 
Rational exercise of the will, proper intellectual and moral 
culture, and the religion of Jesus Christ, restore to man 
a proper balance of desire and duty. In such environ- 
ments, the will determines only that which is in harmony 
with God's will ; and the heart of man praises God's wis- 
dom, love and power. 



A. CHOICE ; OR, THE INITIAL VOLITION. 

284, 

Choice is an initial volition. It is a voluntary determination 
that succeeds rational deliberation. 

Character of Choice. — It has been indicated that 
the two-fold character of the will is determination and 
MKNTAiv EXECUTION. Choice might be called the mood- 
volition. It is important to remember that the choice un- 
der discussion, is not an intellectual thing, not an emo- 
tional thing — it is a voluntary act. There are intellect- 
ual and emotional preferences and inclinations ; but these 
are often not prolonged into voluntary choice. Voluntary 
choice is an issiie of deliberation : thoughts and feelings 
are the materials deliberated upon ; and the deliberation 
is a matter of the understanding. In this deliberation, 
the motives of desire are weighed over against motives of 
prudence or duty. Perhaps one desire is balanced over 
against another desire, or one thought over against an- 
other. At some point of time in the deliberation the will 
determifies, decides, chooses. The mind is made up to do 
this or that, to act this way or that way, to do a thing or 
not to do it. This is the initial act of the will ; it is the 
initial volition. The initial volition, as already illus- 
trated, may have three destinies. 



285. 

Every choice, or initial volition, is a free and rational out- 
growth of a free and rational deliberation. 



T H K W I I. I. . 423 

Development of a Choice, — The initial volition, 
or choice, is not the result of an irresistible cause ; it is 
the voluntary decision of a rational mind as prompted by 
reasonable or pleasing motives. The prompting may be 
persuasive and urgent ; but is always, in a sane mind, a 
resistible prompting. This distinction lies at the basis of 
a rational mind : if the impulses that lead to choice are 
irresistible forces in our mind, there can be no distinctions 
between feeling and volition ; nor can there be any psy- 
chological mission for will. The very nature of determin- 
ation, or decision, implies such motives. The confession 
of consciousness, presented in such words as determination 
and decision, amounts to a belief in the freedom of choice ; 
this belief is indicated by our conduct. Every choice 
must, therefore, be the rational and free outgrowth of de- 
liberation. It implies about four steps from its origin to 
its completion. These are : i. Diversity of Objects. 2. 
Liberty of Selection. 3. Deliberation. 4. Decision, or 
Determination. 

Diversity of Objects, — By diversity of objects is 
meant that there are at least two things between which 
we may choose : the qualified voter may determine either 
to vote or not to vote for a certain candidate ; the general 
may attack the enemy in this quarter or in that ; the 
wounded soldier may submit to a surgical operation or 
refuse. If the refusing soldier is dragged to the operating 
table and operated on, the operation is not a result of kis 
choice ; the deed was not the soldier's deed at all. The 
good Samaritan had a selection between two courses : he 
was conscious of two possible lines of conduct ; he de- 
liberated on these two lines and chose. 

L/iborty of Selection, — By liberty of selection is 
meant the freedom to take this or that course, to choose 
one thing in preference to another or others. If there is 
a preference, liberty of selection is the necessary condi- 



424 the: WILL . 

tion of human freedom. We may have 7to choice, and 
then there may be mechanical volition — obedience to an- 
other's mandate ; but if we have a voluntary choice, the 
choice is simply useless unless there be liberty of selection. 
The choice may be a reluctant preference ; but it still 
recognizes the liberty to select one of several courses. Our 
preference sometimes is a selection of the less positive of 
two known evils : the Christian who is ordered to burn 
incense upon a heathen altar to a heathen god, may be 
narrowed in diversity of objects to death or obedience; but 
he can not be deprived of liberty of selection between these 
two. Neither course may result in pleasure, neither may 
be a willing course; but the determination to do one or the 
other, is the Christian's choice ; for it he feels responsible. 

Deliberation, — By deliberation is meant a weighing 
of motives : if there is to be a rational determination of 
the will, this deliberation is a psychological possibility 
and a logical necessity. The deliberation may be accu- 
rate or inaccurate ; it may be modified by temperament, 
education, religion, and other environments ; but it can 
not be dispensed with in voluntary mental activity. 
Whenever there is voluntary activity of mind or body, it 
must be preceded by deliberation. All motives, it has 
been said, have their origin either in the desirable or the 
right. There may be a great deal of conflict and hesita- 
tion in this deliberation ; it may be difiicult to decide 
what is really desirable, and what is really right. Men 
often confuse prudence with duty ; or try to argue them- 
selves into the belief that the desirable is also the right. 
The deliberation may impatiently or weakly falter between 
the influence of apparent good and the really good ; im- 
mediate good may be a stronger motive than ultimate 
good. Whatever it be that enters the deliberation, the 
very co7itinuance of the deliberation is an evidence that 
choice need not be in the line of the strongest desires or the 



THE WII.I.. 425 

wisest thoughts. We sometimes hear it said that our 
choices are in the line of the stro7igest motive. If by the 
word strongest is meant an irresistible influence, we deny 
the statement. The denial is based upon consciousness 
and history : we know that our choices are often the op- 
posite of our strongest desires and our most prudent re- 
flections. This topic will be taken up again under voli- 
tion. 

Decision, — The development of choice reaches a com- 
pletion in the voluntary determination which we prefer to 
call an ijiitial volition. Our selection has now been men- 
tally made ; our decision has been mentally proclaimed. 
The initial volition is complete though it may never be 
carried out : we may to-day determine to go on a botani- 
cal trip to-morrow ; but to-morrow may pass, and our 
choice be unfulfilled. The initial volition, as we have 
seen, may have three destinies. Whichever of the three 
it be, the initial volition, or choice, is a completed mental 
product. In this initial volition lies the psychological 
germ of all voluntary action. In its three destinies lie 
the possibilities of history and character. Freedom to 
will according to such choice is all that is needed to make 
a rational soul responsible for its actions. The last 
thought will be developed under Freedom of the Will. 

Z86. 

The character and certainty of a free choice may be approx- 
imately inferred from environments. 

Certainty of Choice, — Only God knows fully our 
future choices. Men may, however, approximately cal- 
culate the character and certainty of another's choice. 
He who can estimate the influence of environments upon 
a given individual, may fore- know that individual's fu- 
ture choices. In this possibility lies the power of a wise 



426 T H B W I I. L . 

leadership. The power to thus estimate may be an in- 
calculable blessiiig or curse. While such fore-knowledge 
and its consequent efforts are the wise man's forces in his 
fellows, his fore-knowledge is not equivalent to fore-ordi- 
nation. A man may know what I will do ; but not touch 
me with a single influence : the certainty of his knowl- 
edge does not take away my freedom of choice ; my choice 
is never- the-less mine. 

Illustratio7i. — The martyr has the liberty of selection 
between recantatio7i and persecution ; he deliberates and 
decides to die for the sake of his conscience. His choice 
was, perhaps, reluctant, perhaps cheerful ; but under any 
condition it was his own. He feels this, acts as if he be- 
lieved it, triumphantly proclaims his decision, emphati- 
cally determines to do what he does, accuses no one for 
his choice. 

Suggestion. — The student should be ready to analyze 
such concrete illustrations of choice as Judas Iscariot, 
Garfield, Law, Pulpit, Teaching, &c. Whatever physi- 
cal or mental action is known to have been intentional, is 
a proper subject for the student's analysis. 



B. THE FINAL, OR EXECUTIYE VOLITION. 

The final volition is the mental execution of a choice. It is 
the ultimate sequence of mental activity. 

Character of the Final Volition, — It will be 
remembered that choice is the initial function of the will : 
to distinguish a voluntary choice from an intellectual or 
an emotional preference, we called choice an initial voli- 
tion. It will, also be remembered that an initial volition 
may have one of three destinies : it may give place to an 
other choice; it may end in simple preference; it may be 
prolonged into mental execution. The mental execution of 
a choice is a final act of the will; for this reason we call it 
the FiNAi, VOLITION. Its characteristics may be briefly 
summed up as follows: it is an executive act; it is complete 
even if its intended result is not possible; it is 2. prolonga- 
tion through time; it is a free act; it is a psychological 
sequence; it is absolutely irrevocable. I^et us expand 
these items. 

F)xecutive Character, — Our choice is a mental deci- 
sion to do something when the proper occasion shall present 
itself. If, in the meantime, we do not ' 'change our mind, ' ' 
we put forth a final volition in the line of our choice; this 
volition is an effort to carry out our decision, our deter- 
mination, our choice. A choice may not be known by 
outward signs, unless it be through physiognomy or 
movement; but a volition always reveals itself in action 
of the body or of the mind; the action is the visible proof 
that a final volition has been put forth. It is an execu- 
tive effort of some emphasis. 

19 



428 THK WII.I.. 

Its Completeness, — The executive volition is com- 
plete even when the intended result does not follow. In 
other words, the executive volition is a mental phenome- 
non that may or may not be prolonged into a historical 
product; the executive volition to carry a rock, is com- 
plete the moment we attempt to carry the rock. Attempt, 
endeavor, trial, undertaking — eifort of any kind, marks the 
completion, or the mental maturity of an executive voli- 
tion. The distinction here drawn is an important one 
in the argumentation for human freedom. With this dis- 
tinction, we shall find it easy to understand that respons- 
ible action must be intentional action, and that the inten- 
tion is the chief element of responsible agency. From 
this distinction, we shall easily draw the inference of merit 
or demerit in mere contemplation. We may historically 
never be able to carry out some of our volitions, and yet 
the responsible thing, the mental phenomenon, is com- 
plete. 

It is a. Prolongation, — The executive volition is a 
development of the initial volition through time: between 
the choice and its mental execution there may be infinite- 
ly little time or infinitely long time. The proper occasion 
may come almost at once or never; but when the occasion 
comes, the choice is converted into mental execution — 
the act is complete. 

A F'ree Act, — The executive volition is a free act. 
If this is not true, then choice is a useless and deceptive 
preparation; then the deliberation preceding the choice 
is a farce. If a man could determine, but not make any 
mental effort to confirm his determination, his mind would 
have no rational sequence. The very notion of voluntary 
activity is free volition. The will is nothing but a fiction 
if not free. 

A Psychological Sequence, — The executive vo- 
lition is a psychological sequence. Thought leads to feel- 



THE WII.I.. 429 

ing; the feelings are the springs to action; direction must 
be given to these impulses toward action. If no direction 
were exercised over our impulses, we would be the creat- 
ure of the moment's motive; our conduct and character 
would be aimless, uncertain, unsteady, fickle, movable, 
unstable. It is thus a logical conclusion, that the exist- 
ence of intellect and feeling imply, presage, and demand 
a free will. The will is the psychologically necessary ar- 
biter of rational activity; it is seated over the throne of 
Reason. Its first function, that of choice, selects its way 
with the eye of reason, through the mazes of diverse mo- 
tives; but volition is the faithful, the inseparable mental 
executioner of such a rational selection. The executive 
volition is, therefore, a necessary sequence in mental ac- 
tivity; it is the ultimate aim of a rational mind; it, and 
only it, is the psychological destinj^ the moral goal, the 
logical concomitant. 

Irrevocable, — It has been shown that a choice is 
revocable: we may change our minds; but we can never 
recall an executive volition. Once put forth, it is forever 
beyond our power. Choice may enter into the inner for- 
mation of character and thus not be known to men, forgot- 
ten to ourselves, or faded out into nothing; but a final 
volition records itself as attempted ox as triumphant history. 

THE WILL AS A FIRST CAUSE, 
2188, 

Consciousness testifies that the will may be triumphant over 
desire, and thus be the first cause of all character. 

Will vs. Desire. — The desirable, as represented in 
the immediate preference of prudence or pleasure, is a 
mighty motive to action; but will, in its functions of ^^/^r- 
mination and execution, is triumphant over the desirable. 



430 T H B W 1 1. 1. . 

Consciousness testifies that our volitions may even run 
counter to desire. Abraham surely did not desire, nor 
finally wish to slay his precious son Isaac. Surely every 
impulse of calculation and affectionate desire rebelled 
against what he intended to do. The act of raising the 
knife to slay his son confirms his triumphant volition. 
The Roman Brutus thus willed the execution of his be- 
loved sons, and the noble Virginius thus slew his lovely 
daughter to save her from infamy and shame. The thirsty 
man, likewise, resists the drink of suspected water, and the 
sick man resolutely swallows the horrible drugs. 

Will a First Cause, — Will is not the first cause of 
all our acts. The mind and the body may act spontaneous- 
ly or automatically. Such acts are not primarily volun- 
tary acts ; but all our intentional acts, whether they be 
those of body or mind, are voluntary acts. We have 
seen that wiiyi. may triumph over the strongest desires, 
and that, therefore, it is the arbiter of character. It is 
difficult to conceive of the will as a first cause ; but far 
more difficult to conceive of anything else causing voli- 
tions. Such a conception would be an inversion of psy- 
chological destiny. We may not be able to explain the 
thing in so many words ; we may not be able to grasp 
the thought that the will is a triumphant element in char- 
acter, a starting point, a pivot, and a finale of character ; 
but we are in a similar position with reference to matters 
of common consent. That we can not explain the pre- 
dominance of volition in the human mind, is no reason for 
rejecting the evidence of consciousness. The acutest 
philosophers admit that the will is a first cause ; but, in 
the same breath, confess their inability to go beyond the 
evidence of consciousness. Hamilton says, ' ' Will is a 
free cause, a cause which is not an effect, a power of ab- 
solute origination." 



THE WILI.. 431 

//. FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

Remarks, — The character and limits of human free- 
dom, the consequent sense of moral obligation, and the 
systems of government founded upon belief in human 
freedom, are topics that have always led to controversy 
and diverse opinions ; but the importance of a proper con- 
clusion is intense in its effect upon practical conduct and 
human destiny. Modern psychology admits the difficul- 
ty of the discussion ; but recognizes it a duty to reach a 
truthful conclusion ; nor will the problem seem so diffi- 
cult after reaching a clear notion of the functions of the 
will. It is a matter of first importance to understand the 
nature of human freedom. What is it that is predicated ? 
What is it that is denied ? Is it freedom of thought and 
feeling, or is it freedom of will f Is it freedom oi function 
or freedom oi product f Is it freedom of choice, or of voli- 
tion, or of both ? These are the questions to be settled 
before we can attempt any argumentation on human 
freedom. 

Human freedom is a freedom of function rather than of prod- 
uct ; it is a freedom of choice and its mental execution. 

Nature of F'reedom. —The products of volition are 
historical effects in mind or body. The activity of any 
mental faculty may be the product of an act of the will ; 
we use our memory and judgment, all faculties indeed, 
as we will. Physical acts, such as the actions of our 
bodily organs, are also historical products of an act of the 
will. All these products are limited ; in our human 
sphere, we do possess the freedom of hand and foot, of 
eye and ear ; but when we use these organs irrationally 
and outside of our human mission, the products do not 



432 THE Wllvly. 

correspond to the volitions put forth. While we are able 
to do many things with our physical organs, we can not 
do things for which we were not adapted in mind or body ; 
nor does such limitation exclude adequate human free- 
dom. We are held responsible, by men and by God, not 
so much for what we actually accomplished as for what 
we determined and then mentally executed. Intention is 
the recognized basis of responsibility. I may not be able 
to carry a mountain or to calm the storm ; but this inabil- 
ity does not damage my voluntary freedom. I can deter- 
mine to do this, and put forth the /inal volition to do this, if 
there is hope in me; but I would not succeed in actually 
doing. The zvould-be murderer is as guilty in the sight of 
God and man as the actual murderer. This notion of 
guilt grows out of the proper notion of human freedom. 
The good Book and earthly government confirm the cor- 
rectness of the doctrine that the freedom of the will is a 
FRKKDOM OF FUNCTION, the power to choose and the 
necessary power to carry out this choice in our mind. It 
has already been shown that a rational free will must be 
free in choice. Motives may influence mightily; but the 
possibility of this choice or another is necessary in the 
conception of rational freedom. Moreover, freedom of 
will is the power of a mental execution of the given choice. 
No one doubts this. We may not at once put forth an 
executive volition in the line of a choice, but we always 
feel that when the proper occasion presents itself, we can 
do so. 

Freedom of and Freedom from. Choice, — 
The distinction is sometimes put as freedom of, and free- 
dom from choice. We have freedom of choice when we 
can either choose or not choose; we have freedom from 
choice when we can refuse to choose. The former is ex- 
ercised when some one thing is to be done; the latter, 
when one of several things is to be done. We exercise 



T H K W I I. L . 433 

the freedom of choice when we are stubborn or headstrong. 
Stubbornness is our confession in personal freedom of 
choice and volition. Freedom of and freedom yV^?;;? choice 
are the assurances of freedom of mental execution; for, if 
there is no freedom of mental execution, then freedom of 
choice is a psychological farce. 

AFFIRMATIVE ARGUMENTATION. 

zgo. 

There are four affirmative arguments for human freedom : 
I. The Common Sense Argument. 2. The Ethical Argument. 
3. The Psychological Argument. 4. The Argument of Contra- 
diction. 

Explanation, — The common sense argument is the 
argument of conviction and belief; the ethical argument 
is that based upon our moral powers; the psychological 
argument is based upon consciousness and memory; the 
argument from contradiction is the argument that proves 
logical absurdity. 

Common belief and general conviction prompt men to act as 
if free; and, if this belief is a deception, the exercise of our will 
is worse than useless. 

Common Sense Argument, — Common belief is 
not acquired by education: it is an original judgment, an 
intuitive estimation. Conviction is a belief based upon a 
process of thought: reflection and reasoning are the an- 
tecedents of conviction. The ckitd may cherish belief; 
but mattirer minds convert belief into emphatic convic- 
tion. Kvery nation of the world seems to express the 
belief and conviction that man is a free agent, that man 
is the voluntary arbiter of his own actions. Men every- 



434 I'H K wiLi. . 

where act as if free. They deliberate before they make 
a choice; they may be stubborn; they use their bodily or- 
gans and their mental faculties according to a choice and 
its natural execution. The language and literature of 
every tribe and nation has its vocabulary of words that 
confess belief in personal freedom. If this general belief 
is a deception, an imposition of our own fancy or an im- 
position of environments, surely the exercise of will is 
simply ridiculous. What can I accomplish by making a 
choice and its volition, if environments control my con- 
duct, determine it ? 

Conscience attaches obligation and estimation to all sane con- 
duct ; if conscience is a lie, remorse and penalty are simply absurd. 

The Hthieal Argument, — ^^That which has absolute 
conformity with the unchangeable character and conse- 
quently unchangeable will of God is absolutely right. 
Conscience not only is our adequate guide to the right ; 
but it confirms its authority in its intuitive ideas and feel- 
ings of obligation, and of estimation. Every man who is 
sufficiently sane to distinguish between right and wrong, 
harbors in his bosom the idea and the feeling of duty. 
The ' ' ought ' ' of conscience is a voice that must be heard. 
In addition to our sense of duty, we approve or disap- 
prove merit or demerit in self or others. Such an estima- 
tion must be founded on the belief that man is the arbiter 
of his own conduct. It is impossible to account for the 
universal voice of conscience if we deny human freedom. 
Surely no merit can attach to what I could not help do- 
ing ! Surely no blame can attach to what I am forced to 
do ! Xhe only natural inference is that our sense of duty 
and of estimation is based upon the existence of self-de- 
termined innocence or self-determined guilt. But the 



THE W I Iv L . 435 

moment we ethically admit the existence of guilt or inno- 
cence in our own life or in that of others, we really con- 
fess our belief in personal freedom. If, however, we are 
not willing to admit this conclusion, we must sufficiently 
account for the origin of remorse and for the origin of hu- 
ma7i govern7nent. 

Remorse, — Remorse is that sensitive uneasiness which 
torments a confessedly guilty conscience. If guilty by 
confession, surely the confession is a confession of per- 
sonal freedom. The opposite feeling of moral satisfaction, 
also, must be based on recognized merit. If merit is not 
its origin, we can not account for this feeling of moral sat- 
isfaction. 

Origin of Government, — Administration of justice 
in all governments, whether that of revenge, or of private 
retribution, or of family impartiality, or of social fairness, 
or of prison, gallows and guillotine, or of future punish- 
ment, can have no meaning unless it does mean that every 
msin has personal freedom. The courts of justice every- 
where recognize guilt and its deserved penalty in sane 
conduct. Government is based upon the idea of personal 
freedom in every man that has a sufficiently clear notion 
oi duty and of estimatioyi. It will hardly be asserted that 
government is a farce. Only those who have an interest 
in making wrong seem right would dare to claim that re- 
morse and judicial penalties were the imposition of habit 
an^ fancy. Even the infidel writhes under the torment- 
ing voice of conscience: he may not verbally confess as 
much as this; but death or peril often makes the unbe- 
liever pray to Q^oi^i for pardon. Pardon for what ? Surely 
he need not ask for pardon if he had no personal freedom 
in the choices of his life ! Surely he should not regard 
himself guilty if he was not the arbiter of his character ! 
The ethical argument for personal freedom should be very 
well fixed in every man's character. It adds conviction 
19* 



436 T H K w 1 1. 1. . 

to natural consciousness, that we are all responsible agents 
because we 2X^free agents. It is difficult to conceive that 
any one who is sane should imagine that God would im- 
plant into a creature of his hand a moral nature for the 
sake of mockery. Surely he who admits the goodness 
and love of God, will also admit that man must be free if 
he has really a conscience. 

Consciousness and memory testify that our will must be free. If 
it is not free, consciousness and memory constantly deceive us. 

The Psychological Argument, — After delibera- 
ting upon diverse motives, we make up our mind. This 
choice is a free act of the will, if we may trust conscious- 
ness. At the moment of the choice, we are conscious of 
the delie/that we could choose otherwise. It is true that 
we are not conscious of anything past or future; but we 
certainly are conscious of the delzef that our deliberation 
was a rational preparation fo7 a free choice. The choice 
we believe to be possible is, of course, a future something, 
a something that may never occur; but our belief is an in- 
stinctive estimation of the present moment. Mkmory al- 
so testifies that deliberation upon motives was a rational 
preparation for a free choice: the criminal who is finally 
caught in what he so fondly made himself believe to have 
been his only course of conduct, remembers now, with 
horror, that his choice was a free choice. If this were 
not his recollection, and if he did not firmly trust its ac- 
curacy, he surely would not tremble under the accusing 
voice of a guilty conscience. 



T H K WILL. 437 



294^ 



Conscience is a logical contradiction of fatalism, which regards 
man a victim and God a tyrant. 

The Argument from Contradiction. — Fatalism 
is the doctrine that man's will is not free: it claims that a 
man can not do otherwise than he does; it makes environ- 
ments superior to personal agency; it logically leads to 
the belief of absolute predestination, a doctrine now al- 
most obsolete. Absolute predestination claimed that man 
could do nothing to save or to destroy himself, thus giving 
no self-determination to man. Fatalism is never a prac- 
tical life impulse: though superstition may set the day of 
our death, and determine our life- companion, and enter 
largely into the strange beliefs of the ignorant, these very 
people make an effort to avoid such fates and usually suc- 
ceed. If fatalism be true, the world always has been and 
always will be deceived. Such a conclusion is beyond the 
beliefs of common sense and beyond the convictions of 
sound logic; it makes man a victim, and accuses God of 
unfairness; the conclusion carries its own refutation. If 
we have a conscience, then fatalism must be a wretched 
untruth; for a conscience apart from free will would be a 
farce. 

REFUTATION OF OBJECTIONS TO HUMAN 
FREEDOM. 

Remarks. — The affirmative argumentation for human 
freedom is sufficient evidence for a mature and normal 
mind; but once in awhile a peculiar and abnormal mind, 
or an impulsive mind, or a biased mind, or a wicked 
mind, or a shallow mind, or a confused mind, or an un- 
balanced mind, finds greater weight in an isolated objec- 
tion than in a system of proof. To protect ourselves from 



438 T H K W I Iv I. . 

the po.ssible influences of such objectors, we should be 
ready to refute their apparent objections. The limit of 
our text hinders us from venturing into details ; but it 
would be evident cowardice and injustice to pass over in 
silence such objections as may creep into the mind or 
character of the young and old. 

F'ive Objections, — We may sum up the main objec- 
tions under the following headings: i. Emotional Pre- 
dominance. 2. The Predominance of Motive. 3. The 
Implied Contrary Choice. 4. The Necessity of Previous 
Volition. 5. The Apparent Impossibility of Reconciling 
Divine Supremacy and Human Freedom. The limits of 
our book will necessitate a brief and practical statement 
of these objections and their refutation. 

295- 

History records voluntary triumph over the most urgent de- 
sires, unless the slavery of passion has forfeited freedom. 

Emotional Predominance Denied, — Those who 
claim that emotion is predominant over choice and voli- 
tion, assert that under certain environments of tempera- 
ment, companionship, education, and habit, a man can 
not choose otherwise than he does. It is claimed that the 
inclinations and disposition of the heart make a contrary 
choice simply impossible. 

Refutation. — It may be remarked, in the first place, 
that this objection is based upon acquired phenomena, 
abnormal outgrowths. Psychology has to do only with 
the original constitution of the mind, only wdth native 
endowments. Consciousness and Memory testify that 
in the moment of a volition we act upon the belief that 
we could choose otherwise. If consciousness gives trusty 
reports in other instances, we must accept its evidence in 
this instance. But if the belief \hws testified to, is the im- 



T H K WILL. 439 

position of fancy or education, human beings are the most 
deluded creatures of God's universe. This conclusion is 
absurd. Consciousness and memory thus testify to a 
possibility of selection. The desires may urge with fierce 
intensity ; . but we still act as if we were /r^^ to select. Be- 
lief in the possibility of selectio7i is a proof qI freedom. 
History records voluntary triumph over the intensest 
desires. Consciousness and memory are thus confirmed 
by undeniable proofs of conduct. John B. Gough, the 
white-haired conqueror of alcoholism in his system, told 
with touching pathos of the bitter struggle between his 
desire for drink and his convictions. But in the same 
confession, he emphatically asserted the triumph of his 
will under Christian correction. His subsequent life con- 
firmed the truth of his claim. It is only when the slavery 
of passion forfeits our freedom, that desire becomes a 
master. But such a result is not a proof of fatalism ; it is 
only a proof that when human freedom is despised and 
trampled upon, this freedom may be taken from us. 

Z96, 

If motives are reasons rather than causes, the so-called 
"strongest" motive may render a choice morally certain, though 
not morally necessary. 

The Predominance of Motives Denied, — It 

has been claimed that under certain moral pressure we 
could not choose otherwise than we do choose. It is as- 
serted, by way of explanation, that under these environ- 
ments one particular motive will always be the ' 'strongest 
motive'.', and that this motive will prevail. In other 
words, a man will every time make the same choice under 
the same circumstances, and he will because he imist. 

Refutation, — The theory that the strongest motive de- 
termines human choice, or prevails over voluntary power, 



440 T H K W I Iv I. . 

is the conclusion of a superficial mind. The theory re- 
sults from a simple confusion of terms employed. It must 
be remembered that motives are reasons why a man does 
thus or thtis. The ' 'strongest motive' ' is the best or most 
pleasing reason for doing a thing. It is the strongest mo- 
tive, the best reason, because it is the motive selected by 
the will. Other minds may select another motive, and 
thus there may be as many ' 'strongest' ' motives as there 
are minds to make selections. The strongest motive is, 
therefore, a personal, a rational because rather than a cause. 
Since it is a thing selected, it can not be a prevailing some- 
thing — it can be nothing more than the product of a vol- 
untary choice. If this is true, then the will is the origin, 
the source, the first cause of all choices. This is a proper 
conception of the will. If will were not the originating 
cause of all choices, there would be r\.Q function for a will. 
Insthict, simple impulse, would be our only life- guide. 
This is true of the brute mind; but the destiny of human 
thought and feeling is V01.1T10N: a mind of only thought 
and feeling would be an undirected mind. If, therefore, 
the will has ?iny function, it is the function to direct ; but 
the power to direct implies ih.^ freedom to direct. And, 
if there is freedom to direct, it must be the freedom of the 
will. And, if the will is free, then motives can be only 
reasofis why. To call motives irresistible, prevailing caus- 
es is to deny the psychologically necessary function of 
free directive voluntary power. This is, to say the least, 
a logical absurdity. 

Conclusion, — We conclude, then, that will is the 
originating first cause of all choice and of all volition; 
that motives are resistible reasons why; and that the 
strongest motive is a personal selection made by a rational 
will. It is now proper to investigate the effect of such 
motives upon voluntary action. 



T H K W I Iv I. . 441 

Moral Certainty. — A motive, a reason why, may 
render a certain choice morally certain. Indeed, we may 
tell what a man will do, if we know his character and his 
surroundings : we infer his choice from an estimation of 
his rational process under the influence of motives ; we 
are sure he will choose this or that ; it would be unnatu- 
ral if he chose otherwise; we should be surprised if he did 
not select the motives as he does. This certainty is 
called ' ' moral certainty ' ' . The meaning of the word 
"moral" is based upon its lyatin origin. It means cus- 
tomary, usual — so usual that we may rely upon its cer- 
tainty. Right here we must be careful to distinguish be- 
tween "moral certainty" and "moral necessity". Moral 
necessity implies a great deal more than moral certainty. 
He who does a thing under "moral necessity" has no 
power to do otherwise. Now, motives, even if they be the 
strongest, render our choices morally certain ; but not 
morally necessary. This has been explained in the dis- 
cussion. To say that a choice is a moral necessity, is to. 
say that motives are the cause and volitions the effect ; but 
we have learned that will is the cause and that volitions 
are effects. It is true that motives prompt me to choose 
this or that ; but /, my will, still do the choosing. The 
relation of motives to the will may be illustrated by a 
falling apple. Gravitation is the cause of its falling; but, 
obstacles in the line of its fall, modify the direction of the 
fall. The will is like gravitation: it is the cause of our 
intentional actions. The line of such action has a ra- 
tional modification in motives. We still act, but we act 
for some reason why. 

The Dictum Necessitatis, — The claim that every 
choice implies a previous choice, is called the ' ' dictum 
necessitatis " ; it is the doctrine of necessity. Those who 
held it were called fatalists, necessitarians. Dr. Edwards, 
the celebrated New England divine, states the doctrine 



442 T H B W I Iv L . 

as follows: " If we should thus cause a volition, we 
should doubtless cause it by a causal act. It is impossi- 
ble that we cause an3^thing without a causal act. And 
as it is supposed that we cause it freely, the causal act 
must be a free act, i. e., an act of the will, or volition. 
And as the supposition is, that all our volitions are caused 
by ourselves, the causal act must be caused by another, 
and so on infinitely, which is both impossible and incon- 
ceivable". Of course, the "dictum" is a denial of free- 
dom. Its force is, that a free volition must be the effect 
of a preceding free volition, and that such an infinite 
series is impossible and inconceivable. It means that 
every causal act must be preceded by another causal act, 
and that the implied infinite series would make every 
caused choice or volition at the same time both free and 
not free. The ' ' dictum ' ' is now no longer held. 

297. 

The *' dictum necessitatis " deceives in its hypothesis that 
volition is not itself the will's causal act. 

Refutation of the '' Dictum '\— With Dr. Ed- 
wards we admit that his supposed infinite series would be 
both impossible and inconceivable; but we deny that a 
volition "must" be caused by "another" volition. 
Such an hypothesis is an utter misconception of mind. 
It would prove too much and thus be absurd. To say 
that one causal act must be preceded by another causal act 
is to rob the word cause of all meaning. A cause is not a 
cause unless it is an original soutre, 2^ first cause. To say 
that one volition " must" be caused by another, is to say 
that we * * must ' ' remember in order to remember, or 
think in order to think, or feel in order to feel. The no- 
tion is ludicrous. The hypothesis of the ' ' dictum " is a 
misconception of the function of the will. A volitio?i is 



T H K W I L Iv . 443 

itself the wilV s causal act. The initial volition of the will 
is an originating act, a choice; and choice is an effect; but 
not the effect of a precedirig choice. // is the effect of the 
will willing. A volition that is not the direct product of 
the originating will, is not a volition. The volition must 
be a free act, the act of 2, free will acting freely. 

Consciousness, memory and history testify that the will can, 
in the moment of any choice, choose otherwise. 

Implied Contrary Choice. — Necessitarians hold, 
that the implied power to choose otherwise in the moment 
of any given choice, is a power which can not be proved. 
In other words, freedom of will implies the power to 
choose otherwise in the moment of any choice; but the 
objector claims that this implied power is a fiction; and 
if it is a fiction, there can be no freedom of will. 

Refutation, — That we do have the power of contrary 
choice can be shown from consciousness and history. 
It is true that we may never put forth this contrary 
choice; but this fact does not deprive us of the psycholog- 
ical power. A man has the power to do a thing when 
he has all requisite apparatus and when, he has full con- 
trol of such apparatus. If, now, he does not choose to 
exert his power, we can not claim that he has no power 
to do this thing which he is simply not willing to do. 
There is manifestly a vast difference between \h& power to 
do and the actual willi?igness to do. Indeed, a man may 
never exert his power, and yet possess such power. In 
like manner, the power of contrary choice may never be 
exerted; but this is no proof against the existence of the 
poiver. Consciousness, it is true, can not furnish direct 
testimony of the power to choose otherwise; for conscious- 
ness is concerned only with what is in present relation 



444 the: W I ly ly . 

with our mind. Consciousness is not concerned with the 
past or the future; it can not report the possible, but only 
the actual. But while consciousness can not give us a 
direct testimony of power to choose otherwise, it does tes- 
tify that we act on the belief of 6ur power of contrary 
choice. If we do not act on this belief, it can not be ex- 
plained why v^^ deliberate upon several courses; if this 
belief is a fiction, consciousness reports a lie and induces 
us to act upon this lie; if the evidence of consciousness is 
false in this case, we can never act upon its evidence. 
No one is ready to give up this evidence of consciousness. 
Indeed, memory and history confirm the report of con- 
sciousness, that in the moment of any choice, we could 
have chosen otherwise. Only insanity would dare to leap 
from the proofs of a universal consciousness. 

zgg. 

Human freedom is not inconsistent with divine supremacy; 
for God lovingly inclines us toward the good and helps us by 
his grace. 

Apparent Contradiction, — God's supremacy is a 
logical -necessity. We can not think of an all-wise, all- 
powerful and all-knowing God, without admitting that 
his supremacy is the aim and object of such divine attri- 
butes. This logical inference is confirmed b}^ revelation. 
Accordingly, God is able to fore-know what choice a man 
will make under given environments; but, knowing this 
much, he is also able to place man in particular environ- 
ments. It is claimed that if God does this — and we can 
not believe otherwise — man has no use for the exercise of 
a will. According to this theory, human freedom is im- 
possible. 

'Refutation, — We assert that human freedom is not 
inconsistent with divine supremacy. I^et us now remem- 



THE w I iv iv . 445 

ber that human freedom is a freedom of voluntary deter- 
mination and its mental execution. Such a freedom makes 
man the responsible agent of all his intentional acts; such 
a freedom is adequate in the completion of every man's 
mission in God's plan of creation; such a freedom may 
have a ratio?ial limitation and yet be sicfficiefit. Our 
physical and mental constitutions indicate a design in 
the creation of a human being; human possibilities are 
in perfect harmony with this design. Design, may limit 
us to a certain diameter; but the limitation may be dijust 
and satisfactory one; our constitution does not crave for 
more; our mind admits the justice of human limitations. 
Among these limitations we are free to choose and to 
carry out whatever belongs to our mission. If we make 
proper use of this freedom, we can execute all those things 
which lead to highest happiness. Surely no sane mind 
could object to such a freedom! Even if God places us 
into certain environments in which we ivill not choose 
otherwise, he does not cojnpel ns so to choose; but if we 
choose in the line of inclinations such as God puts into 
our heart we are surely the happier for it. What freedom 
could be higher than the freedom to choose those things 
which tend to our ultimate happiness ? God's touch is al- 
ways the touch of love; in love there is permission, it is 
the permission of freedom. Besides this, God helps our 
fallen weakness of will by touching us with his grace. 
The religion of Jesus Christ reconciles our will with God's 
will. 

300. 

" Man is free when he is not controlled by what ought not to 
control him, and when he need not be controlled by what ought 
to control him." 

Reasonable Human Freedom, — The freedom 
predicated in the above proposition is abundantly satisfac- 



44^ T H E W 1 1. 1. . 

tory to man and infinitely y?^^/ as a divine regulation. Dr. 
Mann, a celebrated author, teacher, preacher, and theolo- 
gian, makes the above most happy statement of a diificult 
topic. The definition conflicts with no one's experience; 
it is the testimony of consciousness, of ethics, and of re- 
vealed theology; it is simple and clear enough for all. 
Such a freedom makes man a moral agent; it is the free- 
dom which man had before the Fall and ever since ; it is 
the freedom of the worst criminal and the grandest man- 
hood ; its limitations are admittedly just. **Not con- 
trolled by what ought not control' ' , is the freedom a man 
has under most unfavorable environments. Evil can 
never predominate over a rational will, unless a man per- 
mits his soul to be eaten out by vice. ' ' Need not be con- 
trolled by what ought to control' ' , is the freedom which 
may resist God's loving guidance. Under such freedom, 
man may resist the touch of God, refuse grace, reject life 
and salvation. Though man has adequate moral free- 
dom, he has absolutely no power to save himself from the 
penalties of sin; such saving is beyond human possibility. 

JO J. 

The freedom which is adequate in moral action and human 
mission, is, like all other human powers, degenerated and cries 
out for a Saviour's mediation. 

Freedom of Will and Divine Mediation. — It 

has been shown that man has voluntary power over his 
thoughts; that because feelings are in the line of preced- 
ing thoughts we have indirect power even over our feel- 
ings; that we have free power over our own character, so 
much so that in moral things a man is his own voluntary 
arbiter; that human freedom is not absolute but relative, 
a freedom adequate in all that man ought to accomplish 
in his divinqly appointed mission. But we must not 



THE W I Iv L . 447 

imagine that this freedom is sufficient to work out our 
own salvation; this is a work beyond our power. A man 
has no power to will his own freedom from sin, to will his 
own forgiveness, or to create in himself a " clean heart" 
and to renew within himself a ' ' right spirit ' ' . The 
power of regeneration belongs to the Holy Spirit. Rev- 
erently we confess that our will is too weak, too much 
prompted by evil, too ready to yield to Satan. Conscience 
and consciousness are confirmed in this by Holy Writ. 

Psychological Degeneracy, — At first created in 
the image of God, the soul has since suffered the degen- 
eracy of voluntary and hereditary guilt. No mental 
power, and indeed no human capacity, is any longer an 
ideal power. Every intellectual power may fail us: mem- 
ory may fail us; judgment may mislead us; conscience 
may be weak; reasoning may be dim and uncertain. Our 
emotional nature is even more degenerate: consciousness 
and the good Book tell us that ' ' Every imagination of 
the heart is only evil continually " . If thought ^.n^L feeling 
are the psychological preparation for volition, then we 
may expect to find a like degeneracy in our will. And 
this is what psychology and the Bible alike confess. If 
then the will is weak, it cries out with Socrates of old, 
for a Saviour's mediation. It is here that psychology ad- 
mits human helplessness in the guilt-stained fetters of a 
fallen nature. Humbly, then, does psychology seek for 
Calvary and divine mediation. The ransom won for man 
in the Crucifixion was the ransom of a soul which, though 
it held in its bosom the strength of a moral giant, wept 
bitter tears of repentance for guilt. 

302. 

Cultivation of the will, by means of direction, stimulation 
and self-control, makes manhood sublime. 



448 THK wiiyiv. 

Cultivation, — lyike all other powers, the will may be 
cultivated by exercise. This exercise should be given 
under dire:ction, stimui^ation and skI/F-controIv. 
Such cultivation will help to restore our will to its des- 
tined pre-eminence; it will enable the will to fulfill a 
moral mission. 

Direction, — Our will is a rational will: its functions 
are preceded by intelligent deliberation, and the delibera- 
tion is a rational preparation for volition, If, now, this 
deliberation be guided, directed, and urged by an intellect- 
ual education, our volitions are more likely to be in the 
line of right. The . motives that will then prompt our 
volitions will be those of duty rather than those of d:^- 
SIRK. 

Stimulation, — To stimulate is to encourage by hope. 
A rational will may be stimulated by holding out the 
hope of voluntary attainments. The grand models of 
history may be held up for our imitation: such a strength 
of will as is to be seen in the character of Socrates, Na- 
poleon, Cranmer, lyUther, Washington, Gladstone, Web- 
ster, and others, will inspire a man with courage. Ora- 
tory, discovery, skill, success, character, &c., are the re- 
sults to be secured. 

Self- Control, — Perhaps the honest eiForts of self-con- 
trol are the most fruitful exercise of the will. Self-control 
is a mastery of self under adverse environments. Irrita- 
tion, anger, difiiculty, obstacles, etc., must be overcome; 
the mind must be made to feel its own power over such 
things. At West Point, the initiaton of a new cadet in- 
cludes taunting and vexation. The old cadets compel the 
new cadet to endure all sorts of annoyances. The cus- 
tom seems barbarous; but when we remember that its aim 
is to make the military graduate a calm and self-possessed 
leader of men, we are perhaps ready to admit the reason- 
ableness of its continuance. Self-control makes the orator 



T H K W 1 1. ly . 449 

an immovable giant in the face of opposition; it makes 
the warrior a Stone Wall Jackson, or a Grant at Vicks- 
burg; it makes the teacher a central force around which 
his pupils crowd for strength; it makes the martyr as calm 
as the unruffled expanse of the wide Pacific. The recip- 
rocal relation of body and mind makes it important to gain 
control over our physiological functions. He who can 
not control his appetites is the child of weakness. Culti- 
vation of the will, however, can not reach beyond the mis- 
sion of a moral responsibility. 

The religion of Jesus Christ is the proper correction for a hu- 
man will. It will reconcile desire with duty. 

Correction of the Human Will. — That cultiva- 
tion is a necessity, because of a psychological degeneracy, 
is an indisputable fact; that such cultivation enables man 
to fill his moral mission is also admitted. But it is also 
important to give this will more than an intellectual prep- 
aration. An intellectual education gives us wisdom and 
scholarship, but may not reach the heart. The heart is 
the impulse to voluntary conduct. Desire is often in 
fierce conflict with duty. Unison of desire and duty can 
be secured only by spiritual rkgknkration. Desire and 
duty can be reconciled only when God gives us a new, 
clean heart. The man who determines to place himself 
outside of grace, outside of the means of grace; outside of 
the Christian church and its fellowship; outside of the in- 
fluence of prayer and worship; outside of Biblical inspira- 
tion, sadly over-estimates his will, fatally mistakes his 
destiny, and too late will reap the whirlwind because he 
sowed to the wind. 



450 T H K W I ly I. . 

RESUME ON THE WILL. 

Resume. — The investigation of the will has led us to 
the following resume. It is the determinative and execu- 
tive power of the mind. Its two functions are, therefore, 
DKTE^RMiNATivK and executive:. The study of the will 
is difficult, as may be inferred from historical controversies 
and subsequent diversity of opinions. The will has a 
four- fold importance : it is the arbiter of mental activity ; 
it is the arbiter of practical conduct ; it is the arbiter of 
character; it is the basis of theology. An analysis of 
voluntary conduct shows that determination, or choice, 
may have Thrkk dBSTiniKS: choice may end in mental 
execution; it may end in simple preference; it may yield 
to another choice. The first destiny may be illustrated 
by what goes on in the mind of a political candidate; the 
second, by what goes on in the mind of one who has 
chosen a profession; the third, by the mental operations 
of the Prodigal Son. The mental operations in each case 
can be easily proved by outward conduct. 

A detailed analysis, based on the previous induction, 
reveals four elements of voluntary action. These four 
elements are knds, motivks, choice. Executive V01.1- 
TiON. Knds are things to be accomplished ; motives are 
reasons why ; choice is an initial act of the will ; and ex- 
ecution is a final act of the will. Knds and motives are 
antecedents of voluntary action ; choice and volition are 
functional acts of the will. Motives are resistible impulses. 
If motives were irresistible impulses, we could not ac- 
count for deliberation or choice. Desire and duty are the 
two main sources of motives. When desire is in con- 
FiyiCT with duty, life becomes a struggle ; but when de- 
sire and duty are in unison, life becomes a happy dream. 
Psychological degeneracy is the cause of this conflict, 



the: WII.L. 451 

and GRACE is the reconciliation necessary to secure uni- 
son of desire and duty. 

Choice is an initial act of the will, and for this reason is 
called the initial volition. It is a determination, a de- 
civsion, a making up of one's mind. The root of choice is 
diversity of objects. Diversity of objects gives liberty of 
selection. We deliberate because we believe in this liberty 
of selection, and we decide, Or choose, after the delibera- 
tion. The development of a choice thus includes four 
distinct and necessary steps. 

A future choice maj^ be a moral certainty, because we 
usually decide in the line of environments; but a choice 
can not be a " moral necessity' ' , because this would make 
the will a psychological figure-head. 

The mental execution of a choice is called the final 
VOLITION, because it is the ending of an initial act of the 
will. The final volition must be 2, free act, or else the in- 
itial act has no rational use; it is an irrevocable act, and 
carries responsibility with it. 

Volition is a first cause among psychological phenomena. 
Thoughts and feelings imply directive power. This is the 
power of volition. The will is a first cause. In order to 
be such a first cause the will must be free. 

Freedom of the will is not a freedom of historical prod- 
ucts; it is a freedom of its Two functions. If only deter- 
mination were free, we could give no rational account of 
the subsequent final volition. Freedom of the will is 
based upon four affirmative arguments. 

The connnon sense argument holds that conviction and 
belief prompt men to act as if free, and, that if this belief 
is false, our will must be a farce. This we can not admit. 
Conviction is the result of proof; belief often precedes proof. 

The ethical argument holds that a moral nature wnth 
only a conscience to distinguish the right and its obliga- 
tion, would be an imperfect moral nature apart from free- 
20 



452 THK WII.I. . 

dom of the will. This inference is confirmed by our ina- 
bility to account for remorse and government, unless guilt 
is the product oi free volition. 

The psychological argument holds that consciousness and 
memory testify to a belief in our freedom at the moment 
of any choice. If we can not rely on consciousness in this 
testimony, we can not rely on it in other instances. But 
we must and do rely on the witness of consciousness. 

The argument from contradictioti di^rtus that if there is 
no freedom of will, man is the victim of fatalism and God 
the arbiter of deepest injustice. But such conclusions are 
logically absurd. 

These arguments usually secure conviction; but abnor- 
mal environments may suggest apparent objections. Five 
main objections are urged against freedom. 

It is affirmed that some emotions hold predominance 
over the will. Kxperience and history show the objection 
to be a superficial one. 

It is affirmed that the " strongest motive" makes choice 
a " moral necessity." Consciousness and logic show that 
there is no such a thing as the ' ' strongest motive' ' , un- 
less it be the selection of a rational will. In that case the 
will is still the predominant factor. 

It is affirmed that freedom of will implies the freedom 
of a contrary choice and that we can not prove that a con- 
trary choice is a fact. But consciousness and memory 
show that we believe in the possibility of another choice. 
This is the psychological argument. 
^ It is affirmed that freedom of choice implies an infinite 
series of dependent choices, thus making each choice at 
the same moment both free and not free, and that such a 
thing is impossible and inconceivable. But the hypothe- 
sis is a false one; it erroneously supposes that another choice 
is the caiise, while really the will itself is the original, ef- 
ficient cause of choice. 



T H K w I iv L . 453 

It is affirmed that if God is ruler supreme, man can not 
be a free agent. But this is not an inevitable conclusion, 
because God never leads to evil, but as a loving father 
prompts toward good. He does not make our obedience 
a moral necessity. Experience and the Bible confirm 
this view. Dr. Mann's definition is : A man isfree when 
he is not controlled by what ought not control him, and 
when he need not be controlled by what ought to control 
him. This is an adequate and satisfactory human freedom. 

But while we have adequate moral freedom, our psy- 
chological degeneracy cries out for divine mediation in re- 
ligious matters. Cultivation is thus necessary in the ful- 
fillment of our moral mission, and the correction of the 
Christian religion is necessary for salvation. 

We have now summed up the main facts in the inves- 
tigation of the human will and its mission. The student 
of psychology should not imagine that his own investiga- 
tion may now cease. The limits of a text book forbid an 
extensive discussion. It has been the aim of the author 
to present the facts pertaining to the will in as short and 
simple a way as possible, and with the hope that the stu- 
dent may grasp the spirit of such an important study. 



PART FOURTH, 



Psychological Supplement. 



A. PEJCULIAR MKNTAI, PHKNOMKNA. 



SI 



Sep 



304' 

Primarily sleep is a sense-exhaustion which results in loss of 
sense-relations and loss of power over body and mind. 

Nature of Sleep, — Sleep, dreams, somnambulism, 
insanity and mesmerism, are probably mental modifica- 
tions dependent upon conditions of the cerebral and ner- 
vous organism. The word sleep refers rather to an ac- 
companiment of sleep than to sleep itself. Sleep is a 
SE^NSK- EXHAUSTION. Our nervous organization is subject 
to loss of particles and vital force; every effort of body and 
mind costs some nerve tissue. Our Creator has so ar- 
ranged that this exhausted nerve organization should re- 
pair itself b}^ sleep; and to make sleep an adequate provi- 
sion, it must be an zrresistid/e result of sense-exhaustion. 



45^ sIvBK:p. 

In sleep the five sense-gateways escape our voluntary con- 
trol, and we lose the ordinarj^ relation between self and 
our sense environments. 

Z/OSS of Relation. — Sleep, the result of sense-ex- 
haustion, closes all the gateways of communication with 
the world about us. So far as the sleeper is concerned, 
external environments have ceased to exist; the picture 
gallery of the sense- world has faded out of the mind's con- 
scious horizon. In sleep, we know nothing of orange- 
flavor, nothing of rose- fragrance, nothing of lovely song- 
voices. Proximity of sense-objects does not cause a throb 
or a tremor in the sleeper. The closing of sense- gateways 
is followed by an instantaneous loss of consciousness of 
our place in the external series; we are no longer con- 
scious of the things that come to us through the senses. 
Of mental operations in dreaming, the sleeper is still con- 
scious. We know this from the fact that, on being sud- 
denly awaked, we recall onr dream. Sleep does not even 
rob us of all self- consciousness; for the sleeper's conscious- 
ness still is his voucher of continued personal existence. 
It is, however, true that this voucher of personal identity 
is not very urgent. 

I/OSS of Power, — It can not be proved that, when 
the senses are asleep, the mind has any power over itself 
or over the body. Sense-exhaustion is, conformably with 
this statement, followed by loss of power over mind and 
body. Our nerve- organisms are servants of the mind and 
of the will, but the mind can not use these servants when 
they require divinely appointed rest. Under the pressure 
of self-preservation, our senses and our nerve- organisms 
are taken out of our control by this irresistible restorer of 
energy. The provision is wise and practical; it is God's 
provision. Sense-exhaustion results, first, in loss of power 
over the body: the muscles relax and the frame sinks un- 
der its own weight; the eyelids, neck and limbs, are per- 



SLKKl^. ' 457 

haps first to escape voluntas control. Vital functions, 
such as digestion, circulation and respiration, are not in- 
terrupted by sleep. Even in our waking hours, we can 
only modify the character of su.ch functions, much less 
cojitrol them; and in sleep, vital functions are wisely con- 
tinued independent of human thought or human volition. 
The sleeper also loses power over his mental operations. 
Thoughts and feelings will continue in sleep; but under 
most incongruous modifications. 

305^ 

Sight, taste, smell, hearing, and touch fall asleep in succes- 
sion, unless the senses are not in a normal condition. 

F'alling Asleep. — This is a gradual loss of sense- 
communication. The order of succession above indicated 
has many exceptions; it is modified b}^ temperament, habit, 
disease or imperfection of a sense, and by special vocations. 
Under ordinary conditions it is natural for the eye to go 
to sleep first; because it is employed so constantly. Opiates 
and other somniferous articles of food or drink, will, by 
reason of sympathetic nerves, cause the eye to fall asleep 
unnaturally soon. Other influences also mscy hasten the 
sleep of sight. That the eye is first to fall asleep may be 
noticed in a public audience or in a class-room. The 
good deacon still hears his eloquent pastor's voice; but the 
deacon's eyelids have closed, and, perhaps his head has 
sought the tender protection of the pew in front — a fortu- 
nate preservation from a lower gravitation. The sense of 
taste follows sight in going to sleep. For this reason we 
taste a trochee when the eye is asleep. The sense of smell 
follows taste in going to sleep. For this reason we smell 
sulphur after the trochee has ceased to affect the sense of 
taste. The sense of hearing follows smell in going to 
sleep. For this reason we are startled by * ' electric bells' ' 



458 S I. E E P . 

when sulphur no longer warns UvS of danger. Touch is 
last in the series. For this reason a slight touch upon 
our cheek is noticed after we have ceased to hear ' ' elec- 
tric bells". It seems natural that the seiise of touch 
should be last to go to vsleep. In the animal world, touch 
is a significant warning against imminent danger; the sense 
of touch is a final chance to escape from imminent danger. 
Death, — Death resembles sleep; it is an absolute 
sleep of all our senses. We may not be able to prove that 
touch gives way last in the dying person; but many things 
indicate as much as this. But it is well known that 
hearing is still active even when the eye has glazed and 
taste has forever flown. For this reason, it may be cruel- 
ty to converse or to weep in the presence of our depart- 
ing ones. 

306, 

We fall asleep unconsciously, though we may be conscious of 
gradual approaches to sleep. 

Unconscious Falling Asleep, — We may try to de- 
tect the exact moment of going to sleep; but we shall meet 
with no success. Sometimes people go to sleep over a 
book, drop the book, and snore; but, on being accused of 
sleeping, they stoutly deny it. Sick persons, after dozing 
for minutes, sometimes complain of sleeplessness; they 
often do not know that they have slept. But we may be 
conscious oi approaching drowsiness: we may feel sure that 
sleep is coming; that languor is stealing upon us; that a 
drifting of sense will soon drift us into sweet slumbers; 
we may even rCvSist such approaches, and rebel against 
such uninvited encroachments upon our purposes. When, 
however, the moment of falling asleep comes, conscious- 
ness of vSense-relations has also gone ivith sense- exhaust- 
ion. It is a blessed thought that death will be some- 



S I. E E P . 459 

thing like this unconscious falling to sleep; that earth-ties 
will be u7iconscio2isly severed; that we can thus pass away 
in peace. 

307^ 

In sleep there are spontaneous mental operations ; but the 
mental products are incongruous combinations. 

Asleep, — We have already noticed that mental opera- 
tions in sleep are conscious phenomena. We have also in- 
dicated the absence of volition; but absence of volition re- 
moves the possibility of proper atteyitioii. Of course, 
perception has ceased because the sense-gateways have 
closed. But MEMORY continues to be active, perhaps 
grotesquely so, but still active as memory. Its record 
may be false or partial; but often it is remarkablj^ true. 
The sleeper's memory will recall his previous occupation, 
previous scenes, and previous experience. Fancy may 
touch these memories with modifications; but the sleeper 
has often told from memory what he would never have 
cared to tell in his waking hours. Indeed, memory is the 
suggestive basis of dreams. Imagination is intensely act- 
ive in the sleeper. The most grotesque, the most unex- 
pected, the most unreal and unthought-of pictures will be 
thrown upon the mental canvas of the dreamer's mind. 
The sleeper's imagination seems to be utterly out of vol- 
untary control ; it is pitiless, uncouth and wayward. 
Sleep does not exclude the exercise of judgment : the 
mind of the sleeper still estimates time, actions, &c. The 
judgment is, however, usually erroneous; and most per- 
sons would blush to do, in waking hours, what their 
judgment in sleep decided to be appropriate. The sleeper 
is active in reasoning. There is often very little rela- 
tion between the premises; and much less is the conclu- 
sion an outgrowth of the premises. Reasoning will, how- 
20* 



460 SLEEP. 

ever, carry on a debate or an argument. Some minds 
reason out practicable plans, work out problems, reach a 
conclusion in matters of doubt, &c. But it must be re- 
membered that coherent reasoning is the exception in a 
sleeper. As a rule, the operations of the understanding 
are confused and incoherent. Primary ideas and primary 
truths of Reason, or Intuition, are still the basis of all 
dream-thoughts. The sleeper in his dream flies through 
space; patiently endures the slow movement of time; con- 
forms his dream-action to a notion of cause and effect; 
wanders over bea^itiful fields, hears the rushing waters of 
a sublime Niagara, enjoys wit and humor, feels disgusted 
with disagreeable imagery; decides his actions to be right 
or wrong. The activity of conscience is, however, very 
faulty in sleep: murder is committed with as little re- 
pentance as that of a confirmed criminal. 

The EMOTiONAiv NATURE of the mind may be quite act- 
ive in sleep. The dreamer smiles in cheerfulness, sighs 
with 7nela7icholy , weeps in sorrow and sympathy. The 
dreamer's affections are all alive. He loves his kin- 
dred; wanders in the sweet fields with a beloved friend; 
fights the battle oi patriotism; grasps the hand of a kind 
benefactor. So, too, the dreamer envies, hates, cherishes 
iealousy, and wreaks out his vengeance. Of course, it was 
" only a dream" . The DESIRES are all represented in 
dreams. Excellence, power, property, society, &c., are 
still objects of intense longing. Hope grows more ardent, 
or fear more intense. 

But the wiivi. has given up his rightful throne in the 
sleeper's mind. Thoughts and feelings are not directed 
by choice. The thoughts fly off at a tangent at every 
new moment; the feelings are still impulses to action, 
but action that is not chosen, not determined. In this 
respect, sleep resembles insanity. Indeed, the loss of vol- 
untary control in our sleep, makes our dreams seem so 



SI.es p. 4^1 

vividly reaL Whatever is out of our power when we are 
awake has to us an emphatic value; so in our sleep, 
dreams have an emphatic reality because we can not con- 
trol them. 



]3 



reams. 



308. 



A dream is any mental action in sleep. Dreams are some- 
what coherent and conscious, though involuntary and often not 
remembered. 

Nature of Dreams, — Any mental process during 
sleep may be called a dream; but usually we call only 
that a dream which has some coherence. It seems con- 
tradictor>" to say that dreams can be coherent and yet in- 
voluntary. A dream is coherent when the line of dream- 
thought is in some particular direction. In our waking 
hours, we ma^^ direct our mental operations by volitio7i; 
but even when awake we can not always 7'esist a current 
of thoughts. In other words, a coherent dream is the 
product of acquired momentum. In the physical world, 
whatever has received impulse acquires momentum. If 
there is a reciprocal relation between brain and mind, then 
it is only natural to infer that the impulse imparted to the 
brain by the mind during waking hours, will be trans- 
ferred ^gain to the mind and impart its acquired momen- 
tum to any previous current of thought. It is thus tha.t 
dream- thought may be a coherent current even when 
there is no volition. Problems may thus be solved, con- 
clusions reached, and obstacles surmounted, that had 
puzzled the weary brain before we retired for sleep and 
rest. That dreams are not voluntary phenomena, is also 
shown by the common experience that on falling to sleep, 
just before we have lost voluntary control, we can not by 
a volition resist the dream-images that crowd into the 
mind. Dreams are conscious phenomena. When we are 



DREAMS. 463 

suddenly awakened from a dream, we are often able to 
recall it. If the dream had been unconscious action, we 
would not have been able to recall it; for we can surely 
never recall that of which we were never conscious; con- 
sciousness is the basis of memory. But while we are 
conscious of these internal, mental phenomena, .we are not 
conscious of our external environments. That we are not 
conscious of external environments is, however, no more 
a proof that we are entirel}^ unconscious, than that we are 
unconscious of Africa is a proof that we do not exist. But 
we may not be sitfficiently conscious, of a dream to recall it 
when we awake. That we can not recall the dream, is 
no proof that we had no dream. Indeed, it is likely that 
we dream zvhenever ^e sleep; for our senses are perhaps 
never in complete sleep. As long as the reciprocal rela- 
tion of brain and mijid is retained, sleep will be likely to 
produce dreams. 

All ordinary dreams have their origin in bodily and mental 
suggestion. They are the product of acquired impulse. 

Origin of Dreams, — Suggestion and acquired im- 
pulse lie at the basis of all ordinary dreams. This sug- 
gestion may come from the sensoriuvi or from previous 
currents of thought. The sensorium, as affected during 
sleep or as impressed previous to sleep, may contain sen- 
sations that suggest a particular dream. Uneasiness of 
sensation is likely to lead to most gruesome products of 
dream-imagination; and easiness of sensation may lead to 
most delightful dreams. These sensations may be the 
result of intense physical application, of migrating germs 
of latent disease, and of indefinite sense- apprehension in 
sleep. Sensations of the body during previous waking- 
hours were connected with mental operations; on falling 



4^4 D RE A MS. 

to sleep, these mental operations will continue as sug- 
gested acquired impulse. Illustrations may be found in 
every person's experiences. The hard bed may suggest 
a railroad collision; the tight-fitting collar may suggest 
ha^iging — especially if on the preceding day conscience 
condemned a guilty deed, and recommended hanging or 
choking; indigestion may suggest the Prince of demons 
seated upon our stomach, with the statue of Liberty in 
his lap; or it may lead to most horrible night-mare. In- 
deed, the sympathetic nerves connecting the brain with 
the stomach make the influence of indigestion unusually 
decisive. The late supper, especially if it be composed of 
spices, condiments and sweet-meats, has often brought us 
into the shadowy land of frightful dreams. The sense of 
touch is often suggestive to the dreamer. Hot bricks at 
the feet of the sick patient may prompt the dreamer to 
suddenly raise himself up in wild consternation because 
of a horrible dream. The person thus waked up may not 
know the connection between hot bricks and his dream; 
but that is no proof that the bricks were not a suggestion. 
The sense of hearing may bring into the sensorium an in- 
definite report, as of a falling window or a slamming door; 
the judgment may make a wrong inference, and, in a mo- 
ment, the dreamer is in the midst of a bloody battle. The 
student of history, or the soldier, would be likely to dream 
in this line. That a dreamer may be thus influenced was 
tested by the soldiers who watched a comrade, put a pis- 
tol into his hand at the right time, and awaited the re- 
sults. The man fired the shot as if in an actual duel. 
The experiment was a risk. Latent diskask may de- 
velop in our vital organs for days or months. The mi- 
grating microbes of Typhoid fever and the ravages of 
hereditary Tuberculosis may not annoy the person when 
awake; but in sleep such intruders will cause emphatic 
uneasiness in the sensorium. The suggestion will give 



D R K A M S . 465 

complexion to dreams, and often make the dream a sad 
prophecy. 

Mental Suggestion, — Previous currents of thought, 
natural disposition, and prevalent states of mind, often 
are the suggestive sources of dreams. Acquired impulse 
will be more intense in proportion to the i7itense applica- 
tion or vivid impressioyi of antecedent mental operations. 
Latent talent and intense life-preferences will often pro- 
ject themselves in our dreams. 

Intense application to a mathematical problem may not 
result in a solution; we retire for rest; two results may 
follow. Acquired impulse may continue the effort to 
solve the problem; and, unannoyed by the disturbances 
of external sense- influences, the dreamer may hit upon 
the missing link that was not discovered when the 
dreamer retired. This is doubtless the explanation of 
some such solutions. The solution was easily recalled 
the next day, not because new vigor was there, but be- 
cause the mind had worked. The dreamer may not even 
remember such sub-conscious mental operations; but in 
some mysterious way the solution has been made easy. 
Perhaps a little more application before sleeping would 
have succeeded. 

Other solutions can not be explained in this way. In 
the evening, the solution may have been impossible be- 
cause the sensorium was exhausted. In consequence of 
such nervous exhaustion, consciousness was indefinite and 
mental acuteness was dulled; but after sleep, the rest had 
re- invigorated the nerves and senses; consciousness be- 
came a clear light and the understanding was acute. The 
question was now easily solved, because the missing link 
was readily found by renewed acuteness of thought. In- 
deed, this result may occur before we are properly awake, 
giving the appearance of long continued dreams to this 
operation. Many students have had experiences that can 



466 D R K A M S . 

be explained in this way. Hither the acquired impulse of 
previous application or the ix7iewed mefital vigor resultant 
upon sleep, will account for such remarkable dreams. The 
statesman's unfinished "bill", the general's plan, the 
mathematician's problem, the orator's speech, as produced 
in dreams, may be thus explained. IvATEnt talent and 
INTENSE lyiFE-PREFERENCES project themselves into our 
dream world, Many a man may choose a profession or 
settle down in a course of life that is not the outgrowth 
of emphatic genius or strongest inclination. Environ- 
ments may make a choice the best one under the circum- 
stances; but if the latter should change, another choice 
would project itself. In sleep, these preferences will make 
the dreamer an orator, a lawyer, a preacher, a teacher, an 
artist. President Edwards watched his dreams because 
he thought they were an exponent of natural character. 
Every one knows how our heart- impulses color our dreams. 
..Perhaps we should not be willing to confess to ourselves 
or to the world the secret preferences of our heart life. 
Religious conviction and moral persuasion may enable us 
to struggle against such impulses. But when the senses 
sleep, the dreamer will act with more freedom from these 
restraints. This is more than fiction. While our dreams 
are 7iot usually a reliable evidence of actual character, they 
may be an evidence of natural inclination. At any rate, 
we can not believe that au}^ dream is an uncaused phe- 
nomenon of the mind. 



3^0, 

Dreams are incoherent because sleep breaks sense-communi- 
cation; apparently real, because out of our control; and seemingly 
long-continued, because of an inference based upon experience. 

Characteristics. — In sleep, the gate- ways of sense- 
communication with external environments are closed. 



D K E A M S . 467 

upon the information of these senses, our inferaice and 
our interpi^etations depend. If now the senses no longer 
furnish the dreamer with proper data as to concrete time 
and place, he is, as it were, cast adrift in his estimation of 
these items. In consequence of such loss of relation, the 
dreamer is not limited to any particular place or to any 
particular time. The dream thus becomes a chaotic con- 
fusion of items. The most incongruous and inappropri- 
ate links are put together with impunity. Taste and judg- 
ment and conscience are almost deprived of their functions, 
at least they become utterly unreliable. 

Dreams are apparkntIvY rKAIv, because sleep deprives 
of voluntary control over mental operations. In our wak- 
ing hours, whatever is out of our control assumes an ob- 
jective value. We magnify such items and look upon them 
as remarkable. In our dreams, we do the same thing. 
The dreamer is a passive spectator of the images and 
trains that pass in grand parade over the dream-horizon. 
The dream no longer seems a subjective something; but 
an oh^Qctive projection. True it is, that such a projection 
is only that of fancy, but the dreamer can not tell this. 
In this respect, a dream is like the wild phantasies of 
fever- delirium. The dreamer and the fever patient are 
both deceived in their inference. Dreams seem to be 1.0NG- 
CONTINUED, because the dreamer's standard of estimation 
is that of actual experience. What is objectively pro- 
jected in our dreams, would have, if it had occurred in 
waking hours, occupied about so much time. The sug- 
gestion of an actual experience thus becomes the standard 
for comparison in dreams. We usually think our dreams 
occupied a much longer time than they really did. Some- 
times we are deceived into the belief that we have been 
dreaming a whole night long, when it is utterly untrue. 
An officer during the French Revolution dreamed that he 
had watched a procession of bloody warriors file down the 



468 . D R K A M S . 

streets of Paris for several hours. But he had dreamed 
this in they^w 7iiome7its that intervened between the chal- 
lenge of the sentry and the sentinel's reply. 

Prophetic dreams are mysterious communications. They can 
not be mere co-incidence; they are not supernatural. 

Prophetic Dreams, — That some dreams do not orig- 
inate from acquired impulse and from ordinary suggestion, 
seems to be confirmed by reliable testimony. The good 
Book reports such dreams and they may occur even now, 
though any report of such a dream ought to be received 
with some suspicion. That such dreams are more than 
mere coincidknck seems self-evident: they accord with 
the actual in too many particulars. Co-incidences they 
are; but they must be moi^e than this. That they are not 
SUPKRNATURAiv seems to be equally evident; for God does 
not act when the act would be useless or unnecessary. 
But it can be shown that so-called prophetic dreams are 
useless, too late, or evidently unnecessary. That some 
dreams are prophetic, even if they are not supernatural, is 
an inference confirmed by laws in the physical world. It 
can be shown that all material substance is subject to 
electric communication. And it is quite likely that a 
similar magnetic communication between the sensoriums 
of men should reveal things that lie beyond our immedi- 
ate present. Indeed, that mind may influence distant 
minds — especially if the persons are interested in each 
other — seems to be beyond doubt. Reliable statistics con- 
firm the inference. What is known as prkskntime^nt is 
not all fancy and superstition. The strange foretellings 
of our mothers is not all phantasy. It is but a shallow 
philosophy to pass over such mental phenomena with an 
unbelieving shrug. The dreams of two Arcadians, as re- 



DREAMS. 469 

ported by Cicero; the dream of Dr. Moore; and the pre- 
sentiments recorded by the Phila. "Press" are herein 
point. Dr. Moore, a cautious writer himself, dreamed 
that in a customary ramble through a cemetery he had 
seen a newly raised tombstone with the inscription of the 
date and death of a friend with whom he had passed the 
evening before his dream. When this date came, he noticed 
in a daily paper the account of his friend's death, and the 
date was that on the dream-tomb. The " Press" recorded 
the strange presentiment of a man standing on the plat- 
form of a junction depot where he could take the train 
either for his place of businCvSS or for his home. Some- 
thing seemed to warn him to go home, and when he 
reached home his fears were found correct. 



0-Lll"L 



o-mnaTTi o-li ixsm. 



31^' 



The Phenomena of somnambulism are: 1. Physical locomotion. 
2. Artistic genius and skill. 3. Uninterrupted vision. 4. Vocal 
and tactual review. 5. Loss of sense-relations. 6. Clear con- 
sciousness, but no volition. 

Phenomena, — The formation of the word somnam- 
bulism, sleep-walking , refers to the physical locomotion 
that commonly accompanies the causative mental activity. 
But PHYSiCAi^ ivOCOMOTiON, such as walking along the 
edge of precipices, running through dark cellars, writ- 
ing with pen or pencil, reading or talking aloud, resisting 
capture when detected by friends or enemies, is the least 
important among the phenomena of the magnetic condi- 
tion called somnambulism. 

Artistic gknius and skill are as possible for the som- 
nambulist as for any one else. Indeed, the genius of anj^ 
person will be emphasized under the magnetic spell of som- 
nambulism. The young theologian of Bordeaux wrote 
whole pages of manuscript when every other sense but 
touch was useless. Without light, he selected his favorite 
sermon sheets, erased words that displeased him, after- 
wards read his composition aloud and made necessary cor- 
rections in penmanship. 

The young lady artist, in a French school, who, after 
intense application in a prize contest, arose at night and 
gradually completed a product of high genius, is here in 
point. With all the senses, except touch, fast asleep, this 
girl selected proper colors, pencils, brushes and chair; 
worked at what she had started; based her judgment and 
skill upon memory and out-did her waking powers. Here 



SOMNAMBULISM. 47 1 

we have vision without the use of the proper organ and 
in the darkness; here we have highly conscious impulses 
and skilful execution, followed by a stout denial of all 
that she had done. Our evidence is the undoubted testi- 
mony of a whole school. 

Blind impulse, automatic propulsion, would account 
for locomotion, but it does not account for products of 
genius and delicate skill; it does not account for vision 
without the use of special organs; it does not account for 
dotting i's and crossing t's; it does not account for avoid- 
ance of danger and detection. 

Loss of sense-relations and continuance of consciousness 
appear to be practical contradictions; but they may be 
such only until we remember that the senses are not our 
only source of information. 

Volition is unnecessary and impracticable in cases of 
somnambulism; and yet there is impulse and direction 
there that looks like free volition. 

Somnambulism is the magnetic condition suggested by the 
acquired impulse of intense application and vivid impression. 

Origin of Somnambulism, — In all the illustra- 
tions that have come to our attention, the somnambulist 
was under the intense pressure of application and vivid 
impression. The convictions of the theologian, the desire 
for success in the girl artist, the nervous excitement of 
strange experiences, &c., all these acquired an impulse 
that continued into sleep. We can not tell 7ej/ij/ such ap- 
plication does not always result in somnambulism; but 
we do know that such application and excitement invari- 
ably precede it. We are almost compelled to admit that 
such invariable connections indicate the relation of catise 
a?id effect. An abnormal sensoriimi may explain why 



472 SOMNAMBULISM. 

only some persons are thus affected. The acquired im- 
pui.se of preceding mental exertion is such a common 
phenomenon that we do not hesitate to name it as the 
suggestion of somnambulism. The suggestion is an out- 
growth of the reciprocal relation of sensorium and mind. 
This relation we have already noticed. That somnambu- 
lism is the product of magnetic suggestion and the effect 
of magnetic impulse, seems to be a natural inference. 

314' 

Physical locomotion, artistic genius and skill, are the result 
of intensified mental energy and a tactual merging of all sen- 
sation. 

Phenomena Explained, — We have already re- 
ferred to the loss of all sense-relations, except that of touch. 
That difficult and skilful acts may be performed by the 
sense of touch is known by all. The bli7id pianist and 
the deaf organist play the most intricate harmonies, guided 
only by the sense of touch. In certain animals, such as 
the bat, safety is as certain when the animal avoids dan- 
ger by means of touch as when the eye and ear remained. 
Indeed, the special organs of sense are only modifications 
of the general organism of touch. There seems to be no 
reason why touch, under the impulse of intensified mental 
energy, should not be a sufficient guide to physical loco- 
motion and artistic skill. Intensified mental energy 
makes the orator out-do all previous effort; it wins a bat- 
tle for the hero who is under its inspiration. All this is 
the testimony of experience and history. Why could not 
such intensified mental energy heighten physical and 
mental possibilities in the somnambulist ? We all know 
how much mental energy influences the body. The de- 
bater will here remember how he trembles with inspira- 



SOMNAMBULISM. 473 

tioii and conviction. In a similar way, greater genius and 
skill belong to somnambulism. 

Intensified mental energy thus results in directed im- 
pulse that makes free volition psychologically unneces- 
sary and useless. The force thus transmitted from the 
mind to the body directs the bodily movements along the 
line of mental operations. This explains why vocal and 
tactual revision of the theologian's manuscript was possi- 
ble. Mental energy that prompted the thought to be 
written, surely may guide the hand in its executions. 

The vocal revision of the manuscript was not a mere 
tracing of reme^nbered words. It is true that mental en- 
ergy which is strong enough to write the manuscript, 
would make it quite possible for memory to recall what 
was written and to stop at words that displeased; but this 
does not account for the stop at a particular poi7it on paper, 
or for erasures and corrections. Something more is here 
necessary; these actions require vision. We can not con- 
ceive of blind impulse as sufficient for such action; we 
can not conceive that such things are done unless the 
writer kyiew what he was about. Vision there must have 
been and vision is a conscious phenomenon. In our wak- 
ing moments, skill applied to efforts of genius requires a 
mind that is under full consciousness. If there is vision, 
it must be vision that is not interrupted by the constraint 
of physical organs, or by obstacles. Indeed, we often 
hear what we desire to hear in spite of other sounds, and 
we often see what we seek even in a confused crowd. In- 
terruptions to sense- apprehension may make vision more 
difficult in waking hours, but need not prevent it. 

Our notion of a spirit, or soul, is in accord with this 
teaching. The soul will not always be confined to a phys- 
ical casket. And why vShould not a soul, though under 
the ordinary necessity of physical organs of sense, peer 
beyond and through all physical interruption ? Intensified 



474 SOMNAMBULISM. 

mental energy may free the soul from bodily dependen- 
cies. 

But why, if in somnambulism there is such uninter- 
rupted vision, does the person not take notice of other 
things in his immediate presence ? This is also explained 
by a parallel in our waking hours. Deep interest in a 
problem or some other solution often intensifies our line 
of thought so much in one direction, that all other sense 
relations are lost for the time being. The clock may tick 
or strike, and we do not pay any attention to it. Every 
one is familiar with such possibilities. The intensified 
mental energy caused by magnetic suggestion is surely 
sufficient reason why, in somnambulism, the sleeper does 
hot take notice of ordinary items. 

The accurate and delicate skill of somnambulism 
must be either conscious or unconscious phenomena.- If 
the theological student and the lady artist referred to in 
the preceding pages, did what they did without conscious- 
ness, then their actions must have been the product of 
blind impulse; but we do not know of such an occurrence 
in all experience. The acts referred to can not possibly 
have occurred without consciousness. On the contrary, if 
we are right in our conception of mind, and if we may 
base our inference upon the psychologic necessity of con- 
sciousness in the manifestations of skill and genius when 
persons are not in a magnetic state, then the acts of the 
theological student and of the lady artist must have been 
acts of most defi7iite consciousness. But the question now 
presents itself, ' 'Why, if consciousness, and especially def- 
inite consciousness, is the proper basis of memory, are 
not the acts of the somnambulist remembered when he 
wakes up ?" To understand this we must recall the exact 
relation of sense- apprehension and consciousness. We are 
conscious only of those sense-relations that enter our inune- 
diate me7ital presence; we are not conscious of the ear' s 



SOMNAMBULISM. 475 

report that a clock is ticking when we are intensely in- 
terested in a special solution; but, that we are not con- 
scious of this particular sense-report, is not a proof that 
we are working" at our problem ivlthout consciousness. We 
are at this moment not conscious of anything in Africa, 
and yet are perfectly conscious of the thought that we are 
conveying to this paper. So, too, the acts of somnambu- 
lism are conscious acts, even if the actor is not conscious 
of reports that have not come into his mind through the 
organs of sight and hearing, etc. He is conscious only 
of that which has an intense interest to himself; and this 
is an interest that fills his mind independently of se?ise- 
relations. Consciousness of mental activity that did not 
depend upon sense -relations, is not a basis for memory 
when the somnambulist has returned to the consciousness 
of sense -relations. Indeed, the magnetic state of con- 
sciousness is a thing so distinct from that of sense- con- 
sciousness, that memory in the latter state could not ps}^- 
chologically refer to the former. 

The grounds just mentioned may require accurate no- 
tions of niiiid and accurate notions of the relation between 
sensation and consciousness; but we are convinced that the 
student who will 7naster the essentials will be rewarded 
by a satisfactory grasp of the doctrine presented. It will 
not be questioned, we believe, that somnambulism is an 
abnormal condition. If this be admitted, we do not see 
why the somnambulist should remember his acts when he 
again enters a normal condition. Indeed, we have a per- 
fect parallel in the case of persons who do not, for some 
time, after a severe concussion of the brain, remember 
their previous life. At some point the connection be- 
tween consciousness and memory was interrupted in both 
cases; and the interruption seems to be more definite, 
more complete, in the magnetic grasp of somnambulism. 



21 



Tf[ 



esmerxsm, 



315' 



Mesmerism is a voluntary conquest of another's sensorium. 
The mesmerized person will execute the conqueror's volitions. 

Mesmerism, — The vSensorium is the medium between 
volition and physical execution of volitions. In mes- 
merism, a positive temperament may voluntarily subdue 
the sensorium of a less positive temperament, and, through 
this medium, maj^ assume directive power over the physi- 
cal acts of the person mesmerized. In this condition, the 
conquered sensorium is made the captive servant of an 
other's will. The phenomena of mesmerism are products 
resultant from the influence of one mind over another 
through the medium of the nervous system. That some 
minds are predominant over others, in a kind of mesmeric 
magnetism, is seen in the natural preference or avoidance 
of associates. There seems to be an attraction between 
positive and negative temperaments, and a magnetic re- 
pulsion between two relatively positive temperaments. 
Of course, the influence is relative^ rather than absolute. 
This difference of magnetic force is applied in the attempts 
of positive natures to cure diseases, such as rheumatism. 
Sometimes the efforts succeed; at other times failure in- 
dicates magnetic repulsion. So-called "pow-wowing" 
has an atom of success in it, based upon mesmeric mag- 
netism. 

But the more positive phenomena of mesmeric magne- 
tism are those indicated in the proposition. The author 
recalls an illustration of such mesmerism. At a picnic, 
some one proposed an experiment in mesmerism. A 



MESMERISM. ,. 477 

young lady student was to be conquered. The party 
formed a circuit of hands about the lady's neck, and all 
willed that she should move toward a certain person. Of 
course, the lady did not know this choice of the party. 
Gradually her veins became swollen, her face grew pale, 
and she trembled; but she moved in the direction se- 
cretly agreed upon by the mesmerizers. 

Mesmerism should be guarded against; for severe ner- 
vous prostration is apt to follow it, and permanent injury 
may result. He who knows his power in this respect 
should be very careful in his application. He who holds 
firm control over his own imagination is in but little dan- 
ger of being mesmerized. 



Abnormal mental action includes such conditions as delirium, 
hallucination, hysteria, mania and insanity. 

Remarks, —Some derangement of the sensorium 
seems to lead to all the forms of abnormal mental action. 
Any violent disturbance of physiological functions, such 
as digestion or circulation, may cause a derangement of 
the sensorium. Overwork, disease, etc., often lead to 
nervous exhaustion, to congestion or softening of the 
brain. These results, by reason of the intimate depend- 
ence of body and mind, end in some more or less vio- 
lent form of abnormal mental action. The hygienic, so- 
cial, and professional violations of our own times, and 
especially of our own country, together with fanaticism in 
religion, only too often result in forms of insanity. The 
teacher, the professional man, and others, have only too 
much to fear as to the possibilities of a future day's insan- 
ity. We can not be too careful of the influences that en- 
ter into our sensorium, especially if there lurk in our mind 
or body the impulses of a weak parentage. The influ- 
ence of parentage upon offspring may be that of heredi- 
tary insanity. More particularly need the women of so- 
ciety guard against impulsive insanity that may lead to 
suicide, etc. 

JIT- 

Delirium results from the effects of stimulants, narcotics, 
drugs, disease, and nervous shocks. 



D K I. I R I U M . •' 479 

Delirium, — Alcoholic drinks, opium, aconite, and 
other drugs, irritate the nerve tissues, and, in this way, 
exci/e the mi?id. The thoughts flow with increased vigor, 
and seem to free themselves from ordinary suggestion. 
The feelings are emphasized into irresistible impulses, 
and the will loses its grasp upon the mind. All deter- 
minative and directive power is lost — deliriiim has come. 
Phantasy now chases her wild fancies through an empha- 
sized imagination. Images upon the ceiling, voices in 
the air, seem to be objective projections ; and yet they are 
mere hallucination. Sense- relations are overshadowed by 
the pressure of these imaginations and thought-rivers. 
Every mental product seems to be a product of sense-ap- 
prehension, and the person acts upon the firm belief that 
his thoughts are sense- apprehensions. This latter effect 
is an optic and auditory delusion, of mental origin under 
nervous irritation; but the victim does not know it, and 
is with difficulty persuaded afterwards that the products' 
of delirium were not actual experiences. The delirium 
of fever is a common phenomenon illustrative of all forms. 
Nervous shocks sometimes cause delirium. Railroad col- 
lisions, intense grief, proximity of danger, the sight of 
something dreadful, etc., may cause a nervous shock. 
One of the first effects of such a shock is fever and per- 
haps death ; but if the patient's constitution has sufficient 
vitality to throw off the pressure, mental recovery is as 
certain as physical recovery. Delirium is a transient phe- 
nomenon. It is true, however, that repeated attacks of 
delirium gradually lead to permanent insanity. The 
drunkard is, for this reason, likely to be the cause of his 
own insanity or that of his offspring. It is important to 
protect children from nervous shocks, because the child- 
mind is very susceptible. The hysteria of women, and 
the hallucinations of pupils improperly fed or improperly 
cared for, are forms of delirium. Extravagant novel 



480 MANIA. 

reading may lead to nervous depression that affects the 
mind with hysteria. Overwork and want of exercise 
may lead to a species of hallucination familiar to brain 
workers. The alarming increase of insane persons, makes 
it important to guard watchfully against every influence 
that may cause delirium ; because one attack is likely to 
be succeeded by an other, until settled insanity broods 
over the mind. 

318. 

Mania is a madness of the emotional nature. It is the prod- 
uct of an irresistible emotional impulse. 

Mania. — Sometimes persons are intellectually shrewd, 
possessed of acute planning power, characterized by skill 
in schemes and plots; but overbalanced by an emotional 
predominance. The predominance may be that of the 
whole emotional nature, or that of one or several emo- 
tions. In all forms of mania, the emotional impulse as- 
sumes sway over the voluntary nature; the will is dis- 
obeyed. Indeed, the maniac may revolt with horror from 
a deed toward which an impulse prompts him; but he 
seems powerless to resist. Many a pjoor wretch thus be- 
comes the kleptomaniac, the suicide, the assassin, the 
monomaniac of any itupulse. Perhaps hydrophobia is a 
monomania induced by nervous irritation that terrifies 
the imagination and leads to the terrible frenzy of the 
madman. While it is true that pretended mania is often 
made a subterfuge by criminals, it is only too true that 
melancholy, love, and desire, especially when ungratified, 
lead to mania . A large per cent, of the human race, ac- 
cording to the statement of specialists, are affected by 
some mania. It may be nothing more than oddity or 
idiosyncrasy of disposition. 



INSANITY. 481 

319- 

Insanity is a permanent and often a violent disorder of intel- 
lect or feeling. 

Permanent Insanity, — By hereditary influences or 
by successive derangement of the sensorium, the human 
mind is often weakened, and reason dethroned. Insanity 
is especially characterized by loss of voluntary power. 
The operations of the insane mind resemble that of deliri- 
um. Thought and feeling may continue ; but the volun- 
tary throne has been vacated, and the brute passions that 
lie dormant even in the human breast, have assumed 
complete control over the conduct of the victim. We 
shall not try to enumerate the various causes of insanity. 
These causes are very man}^ Consciousness of the in- 
sane mind is not a consciousness of sense-relations; atten- 
tion has been replaced by impulse; perception still employs 
the sense-gateways, but the consequent suggestions are 
not rationally interpreted. Sense suggestions lead the in- 
sane man to immediate and impulsive acts. Memory, in 
the insane man, is perhaps first as cause and first in decay. 
Recollection of former experience is difiicult and often 
impossible. The voucher of continued personal identity 
is lost, and association suggests rapid transfer of thought 
and action. The insane imagination \sj^ terrible scourge 
to its victim. The furies and the fiends of imagination 
torment and scourge the victim with throngs of frenzied 
demons. Judgment and reasoning have yielded in infer- 
ence and conclusion to the suggestions of a depraved im- 
agination. The products of intuition, or Reason, are 
chaotic confusions: space, time, cause, identity, etc., have 
no accurate place in the estimations of the insane man. 
With the blank or wild gaze of a mind devoid of Reason, 
the poor victim peers through the iron gratings of his 
asylum. Action now is no longer rational or responsible 



482 INSANITY. 

action. Insanity is a horrible death of living bodies ! 
Unless insanity is hereditar}^ it may be often warded off 
by heeding its first warnings. What a terrible destiny 
is that of insanit}^! The mind once bright with thought 
and warm with a happy heart- life, becomes the abode of 
spectres and demons; the past is distorted; the present a 
mockery; and the future often not much more than a 
hopeless blank. 



QT^"imcbl JV\iT\<^ 



Nature of This Study. — An investigation of ani- 
mal intelligence is confessedly difficult, because our con- 
clusions must be based upon uncertain data. The proper 
source of information in this investigation is natural his- 
tory. We must draw our conclusions from accurate ob- 
servation of the animal world, and from the testimony of 
naturalists. But the study is also important and interest- 
ing; for upon such an investigation our treatment of an- 
imals and our comprehension of the mission of animals de- 
pends. An interesting question in the study of animal 
mind is its difference from human mind in spite of many 
resemblances and approaches in result. In man and in 
animals there is a brain and a nervous system; but we 
know that in man the brain is the seat of intelligence and 
of physical locomotion; therefore, on the ground of the 
above analogy, we may, previous to investigation, infer 
that in animals also the brain is a seat of intklligknck. 
We are confirmed in this inference by a general unity of 
plan in all God's creations; and our inference is strength- 
ened by remarkable contrivances in animal economy. 

Animal mind differs from human mind in number of powers, 
perfection of function, and character of products. 

General Contrast. — On the ground of certain well 
known resemblance, we might conclude that animals had 
a complete soul like that of man; but such a conclusion 
is soon disproved by evident differences. In the first place, 
animals have fewer powers than man ; many of the emo- 
21* 



484 ANIMAL MIND. 

tioiial products are wanting; the will is wholl}^ absent; 
and attention is a mere blind impulse. In the second 
place, animal powers are less perfect in function. If we 
dare speak of an animal memory, we dare surely not pred- 
icate of that memory the three functions peculiar to it 
in human mind; and if there is an animal judgment, there 
surely is no abstraction, no generalization. In the third 
place, animals have not the power of self-consciousness : 
an approach to consciousness there is; but it is not self- 
consciousness. In consequence of this fundamental dif- 
ference, and in the absence of real volition, every product 
of animal mind differs from that of human mind in 
character. 

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 

Linguistic equivalents and physical actions of animals in- 
dicate some consciousness. 

A Species of Consciousness.— Cavefnl observers 
in natural history claim that animals have linguistic 
capacities. For illustrations they refer us to such ex- 
amples as birds, elephants, dogs and horses. But an in- 
telligence capable of language can hardly be destitute of 
at least an indefinite consciousness. The physical actions 
of such animals as the spider- monkey and the dog and 
the horse and the elephant surely look like intelligent 
actions. Every one will readily find illustrations of sa- 
gacity, prudence, adaptation, and shrewdness, in animals; 
but how can there be shrewdness and adaptation where 
there is no consciousness ? 

No Self- Consciousness, — Self- consciousness in its 
widest sense is a knowledge of self in action; it distin- 
guishes each individual ego from every other ego; it con- 



ANIMAL ]\I I N D . 485 

tains the belief that the ego is an identical continuation 
through time; and it records the most lofty products of 
rational and moral mind. Animals lack all such con- 
sciousness. That animal consciousness approaches human 
consciousness in some details, can hardly be denied. The 
dog draws away his injured paw, and his eyes seem to say 
that he knows he has drawn away his own paw; the lion 
is grateful to a man who draws a splinter from his foot, 
and acts as if he knew it was his 02071 foot; the horse will 
turn his head toward his aching side as if to say that it 
belonged to him — was a part of an individual ego. All 
these actions have the mark of conscious intelligence; but 
they do not indicate belief in a continuation of personal 
identity in rational and moral agency. The distinction 
is an essential one. Animals accordingly lack all really 
rational, ethical, aesthetical and theological capacities.. 
The distinction is decisive in our estimation of the mis- 
sion and destiny of animals. A mind that has no power 
of self-consciousness must lack real memory, comparison, 
and Reason; it must lack the finer emotional capacities 
and free will. 

Animal mind is capable of impulsive attention. 

Impulse Instead of Attention, — Attention in 
human mind is a voluntary centralization of mental 
activity ; voluntary centralization implies deliberation, 
selection and resistance; but animals can not really delib- 
erate and properly resist an impulse. In other words, 
animal attention is the gratification of an irresistible im- 
pulse. The horse pays attention to his food onl}^ until 
his craving has been satisfied; the rabbit pays attention 
only so long as /^«r inspires an uneasiness o^ sensation; 
the cat watches for a mouse onl}^ until a mysterious un- 



486 ANIMAIv MIND. 

easiness of sensation has been gratified; the serpent fixes 
a steady gaze upon a bird until a ravenous and carnivor- 
ous impulse has been gratified; and the panther in like 
manner waits for his pre}^ 

Animal perception does not result in distinct percepts. 

Animal Perception, — Human perception implies 
sense-organs, sense-contact, sensation, suggestion and a 
thought-percept; it leads also to mental feelings and 
rational volition. Animal perception never leads to dis- 
tinct percepts, rational reflection, and free volition. The 
mission of animals does not require such products. Ani- 
mal perception, however, results in accurate and divinely 
directed impulses. The accuracy of animal sensation 
makes it a practical law of action. With such an instinct- 
ive law of action entwined into the very fibers of animal 
organization, animal life-functions are made a ready pos- 
sibility and a certain execution. In animal economy 
accurate impulse is better than reflection and volition. 
This is noticed in bees, ants, Sora rails, rabbits, deer and 
ravens. 

3^4' 

Animal memory continues sensations and repeats them when 
former associations are replaced. 

Animal Memory, — Human memory intellectually 
retains, recalls, and recognizes products of rational per- 
ception and intuitional conception; but animal memory 
does not properly retain nor recall nor recognize. Animal 
memory continues sensations for some time as an easiness 
or uneasiness of association; it repeats correctl}^ a former 
sensation when a former association is replaced, and thus 



ANIMAL MIND. 487 

causes the dog and horse and elephant to act as if they 
had really recognized a former experience. Human 
memory is characterized by the power to conceive an im- 
age of the absent cause of a previous experience; but 
not even the horse or the dog is able to do this. Ani- 
mals do not recognize a former experience when portrayed 
on canvas or in a word portrait. A man remembers a 
hotel before he reaches it; but the horse in consequence 
of accurately repeated sensation only seems to have re- 
membered the hotel before he came to it; nor can the 
horse remember how often he saw the hotel. A pet dog 
will pine away in his sorrow for his dead master; and 
perhaps he will find his grave, stretch himself upon it 
and die; but romantic as this seems, it is only the result 
of a continued uneasiness of sensation, an uneasiness 
caused by the breaking of a pleasant association. Prompted 
by this uneasiness, the faithful dog found his dead mas- 
ter and waited upon the grave for his voice and his pet- 
ting. The nervous action thus continued, aifected his ap- 
petite and sapped his strength until the poor creature also 
died. The accurate repetition of animal sensations under 
replaced environments, together with animal judgment, 
will account for the remarkable feats of Professor Bar- 
tholomew's Equine Paradox. The horse parade, the 
horse cannonade, the horse school, and the horse court- 
room, are phenomena to be explained as accurate possi- 
bilities of repeated associations and immediate inference 
based upon present sensations. 

Animals have no power /or original creation of ideals. 

iVb Animal Imagination, — It is at least impossi- 
ble ever to prove that an animal has the faculty of im- 
agination. The horse with all his nobility never once 



488 A N I M A I. MIND. 

looks or acts as if he had an imagination. The dog and 
the horse can not appreciate the products of art. The 
former will listen to music only because music has a sooth- 
ing influence on his nerves; the horse can not appreciate 
art in any form; can not enjoy the glories of a vSetting 
sun; has no idea of the aesthetic, ^ven the animal dreafu 
is not a conjuring up of ideal images; it is only a product 
of seyisation — a response of sensation. The lion will stalk 
with rugged boldness over the flower- covered heath, and 
never call up any fond image in his mind; he sees no 
ideal creation; he hears nothing but the voice of the 
senses. The wild beast of the forests may sneak about in 
search of something to satisfy hunger; but he does not 
conjure up an image of anything special to satisfy this 
hunger; the Oriole builds her beautiful hanging nest, but 
she builds it always after the original pattern. There is 
no animal imagination. 

Animal judgment conforms action to accurate sensations ; but 
can not perform processes of abstraction, or generalization, or 
classification. 

Animal Judgment. — Animals have a lower form of 
judgment or some equivalent. Direct comparison in the 
human mind detects agreement or disagreement. In an- 
imal actions, we find contrivances that indicate more than 
blind impulse. We have seen that animals have a con- 
scious mind, and it is difficult to imagine a conscious 
mind that has no judgment. The selection of proper 
trees and the formation of a chain adapted to a specific 
end, in the illustration of the spider monkeys, indicate 
some judgment; the elephant that backed into the woods 
to make way for a horse and rider must have had some 
idea of agreement; the horse that balks seems to know 



ANIMAL MIND, * 489 

that his action ivS in disagreement with the wish of his 
driver; the horse that lifts his hoof to avoid stepping up- 
on a little child seems to know that he is doing a favor; 
the elephant that watches a child according to the mas- 
ter's direction can not be void of intelligent judgment; 
the Shepherd dog watching over his flocks seems to know 
his position and his place. Illustrations are abundant. 
But such judgment is based on immediate sensation; it is 
perhaps no more than impulse, but it seems like conscious 
and direct comparison. 

The animal judgment lacks a great deal in application; 
it can not be applied to things outside qf a defined animal 
mission; it is never based on abstraction or generaliza- 
tion. Animals can not think of any quality apart from 
an object; can not conceive oi color or sound in the abstract; 
can not synthesize particulars into generals; can not con- 
ceive of general notions except perhaps the general dis- 
tinctions of animal species; can not classify upon the basis 
of scientific distinctions. 

T/ie jPox". — "As'wise as a fox" is an old saying. But 
even the fox forms no abstract idea oi goose-flesh taste; he 
does not generalize from particular experiences in goose 
chasing; he does not classify geese on the basis of weight 
or color; can not tell previous to sensation whether his 
prey is adapted to his delicate taste. He does make se- 
lection; but upon the basis of appetite only. 

3^7' 

Animals seem to lack the faculty of mediate comparison. 

No Animal Reasoning. — Calculation of means to 
a distant end is beyond animal capacity. We have seen 
adaptation that indicates a lower form of judgment; but, 
beyond a few approaches to reflection, we can find nothing 
in animal mind that should be dignified by the name of 



490 ANIMAL MIND. 

reasoning. The syllogistic process is a thing unknown 
to animal minds. It may be asked why, if the animal 
has no faculty for mediate comparison, does a crow post 
sentinels, or the elephant fill his trunk with mud to re- 
pay the man that offered him a chew of tobacco, or why 
does the dog dig for the burrowing squirrel ? 

The crows post a sentinel under the pressure of impulse 
caused by associated sensations. These continued sensa- 
tions become the basis of crow-judgment. The crow's 
judgment conforms her actions to the sensation. The ele- 
phant has 2ifeeli7ig of uneasiness associated with the man 
that gives him the chew of tobacco. On again seeing the 
man, repeated association replaces a former sensation. 
To gratify the uneasiness of this sensation, animal judg- 
ment selects mud and applies it to the offender. 

3218, 

Animals lack the faculty of intuition, or reason. 

No Animal Intuition, — Human Reason conceives 
primary ideas and primary truths pertaining to space, 
time, identity, cause, the aesthetic and the ethical; but 
animals have no such powers. Sensation, sense- appre- 
hension, furnishes the animal mind with the notion of a 
time, a space, a cause; but animals never conceive of 
space as infinite in extension; they never conceive of 
time as infinite in duration; they never conceive of causa- 
tion as a universal law; they never reason towards a first 
Great Cause — God. 

Animals do conform their actions to the limitations of 
a space; but this is a matter of s^nse-apprehension. The 
horse seems to know duration of a time ; but this is only 
the impulse of a scnsatio?i produced in the nervous system 
by duration of time. The dog knows a cause, and acts 
upon the knowledge. A dog will not lie down upon a 



A, N I M A I. M I N D . 49 1 

hot stove, and he will know the master who whipped him; 
but these are the results of associated sensations and of 
judgment based upon present sensations. In all these 
things there is nothing like rational estimation of cause 
and effect. A cause and an effect are known only as 
sensations. Animals have no idea of personal identity; 
perhaps no idea of any identity. The dog does nothing 
to indicate that he at any moment considers himself a 
continuation of a personal ego. He may know his home 
and his master, and he may make distinctions; but they 
are the distinctions of sense-apprehension. Association 
with his master results in certain sensations. When the 
association is repeated, the sensations will make the dog 
act as if he knew an identical master; but really he only 
felt this. Animals have no aesthetic faculty. The horse 
and the dog and the beautiful peacock may act as if they 
knew their beauty and appreciated it; but their action is 
simply the prompting of i^istinct, simply the action of im- 
planted impulses. Indeed, it is difficult to see how a 
mind void of imagination could have aesthetic capacity. 
Animals never act as if they appreciated differences of 
taste in architecture or in environments; never enjoy the 
beauty of a setting sun; never rationally appreciate the 
sublime; never, except in a sense-way, appreciate wit and 
humor. Animals lack all rational moral power. The 
horse and the dog and other animals can be taught by 
association to do the appropriate, to do that which we may 
know to be right; but animals do not perform such ac- 
tion in consequence of a moral sjdlogism. Dogs do not 
possess the ideas of right as such, nor of obligation, nor 
of estimation, nor of moral freedom. Indeed, animals 
have no approach to such notions. By associated sensa- 
tions a dog may be made to act as. if. he were ashamed, as 
if he felt he was blamed or praised. I^et us remember, 
however, that while he may feel such notions, he never 



492 ANIMAI, MIND. 

knoivs such notions by intelligence. Uneasiness or easi- 
ness of sensations conforms animal actions to our notions 
of ethical distinctions; but we can not prove that animals 
thus act because it is also theimo'ixon of such distinctions. 
The dog that was unwilling to take a bath, was made to 
feel Mn^2.'&y hy averted XooV.^ and coldness on the part of 
his mavSter; the continuance of such uneasiness together 
with simple detection of agreement between obedience or 
disobedience and his master's treatment, led the dog to- 
become willing to take the bath. Animals never act as if 
they felt remorse when they do things which we would 
condemn. Indeed, they violate all the commandments 
and never repent. 

Animals have an emotional nature closely corresponding to 
human sensibility ; but lack distinctly rational feelings. 

Animal Feeling. — Birds, dogs, cattle, etc., act as if 
they were cheerful or melancholy, sorrowful or sympa- 
thetic. Indeed, even the despised hog is capable of in- 
tense sympathy. Knjoyment of self-excellence, of wit 
and humor, of the new and wonderful, of the beautiful 
and the sublime, of satisfaction or remorse, — all these 
are wanting in brute instinct. Any approach to these 
may be readily accounted for on the basis of instinctive 
impulse. 

The AFFECTIONS of animals are remarkable. I^ove of 
kindred is the basis of tribal preservation in the animal 
world; friendship is the prompting impulse of animal as- 
sociation; patriotism holds animals to their home and 
brings them back when removed; gratitude buries even 
the lion's fierceness;, hatred, envy, jealousy and revenge 
are irresistible impulses in some animals. The affections 
of animals may be illustrated by reading accounts of nat- 



ANIMAL MIND. 493 

ural history. Proper topics are: storks, ravens, cats, 
cows, elephants, dogs, lions, the ibis, etc. It will pay 
the student to study the affections of animals. 

Animals are capable of many desires; though not of 
the higher and rational desires. The desire for power 
among herds and flocks is indicated by leadership, but 
the desire is a sense impulse, an uneasiness of sensation 
that is intended to fill an animal mission; the desire for 
society is seen in the actions of horses, birds and insects. 
It is especially noticed in tribal arrangements. Bees, ants 
and wasps are subject to such impulses of desire; but it is 
again not the prompting of a rational mind; it is only the 
prompting of a mysterious impulse twined into animal 
organization; it is an unerring impulse which, joined to 
a species of judgment, directs the most remarkable con- 
trivances. Hope may actuate an animal mind; expecta- 
tion prompts the cat to watch for a mouse. Fear is per- 
haps the strongest impulse in animal economy. It puts 
animals on their guard, makes them nervously cautious, 
becomes an unerring guide to such animals as the rabbit 
and the deer and the crow. As in man, so in animals; 
the desires are the springs of action; animal desires are 
governing impulses. 

Jjo. 

Animals have no determinative and executive power. 

No Animal Will, — It has already been shown that 
attention in animals is an involuntary, undetermined, un- 
chosen something, a product of impulse rather than of 
mental 'execution. Animals have nothing like a rational 
will. There is no necessity for choice, or determination; 
because the animal impulses are divinely appointed to be 
accurate guides in animal functions. The strength of ani- 
mal desires clearly points to the absence of will. There 



494 ANIMAL MIND. 

can be no use for a will that could not resist or refuse; but 
animals do not act as if they freely resisted. Tl^e heated 
horse will drink cold water without a thought that he 
might die of the effects. In this instance there is no de- 
liberation, no choice; but the act is one of irresistible' im- 
pulse. But a horse and other animals do resist the wish 
of men, and it is necessary to account for such resistance. 
A balky horse resists his driver; but not by a voluntary 
choice. He resists an uneasiness of sensation that angered 
him, and he is balky because he detects agreement between 
his action and his anger. 

COMPARISONS AND CONTRASTS WITH 
HUMAN MIND. 

THE NATURE OF BRUTK INSTINCT. 

If animal mind were of the same kind as human mind, ani- 
mals would often surpass human attainments. 

Discussion, — The California wood-pecker makes a 
far more accurate selection of winter acorns than that of 
the Indian; the young bird builds her nest at a very early 
age; the bee constructs her wonderful hexagonal cell; the 
hound finds his distant prey as if he knew its exact hid- 
ing place at any moment. If all these actions are the re- 
sult of a mind the same in kind as that of man; then ani- 
mals in these respects surpass man; for man can not at- 
tain an equal skill by years of study and practice. But 
we know that the bird, the bee, the ant, the dog, the 
horse, etc., can 7iot do things which require much less 
skill; we know that these animals can not do better after 
a hundred trials than at first. If such skill was the prod- 
uct of mind like the human mind, the skill would neces- 



ANIMAL, MIND. 495 

sarily be the skill oi culture. Animals do not understand 
the utility of this skill. 

332 ' 

If animal mind were of the same kind as human mind, its 
actions should be universal and subject to cultivation. 

Discussion, — The skill of birds and other animals in 
their selection of food, in nest building, in migration and 
in self -protection, is certainly remarkable; but if it were 
the skill of mind the same in kind as that of man, then 
animal skill should be universal in application. The skill 
that judges of beautiful adaptations in one case should be 
readily converted into other forms of activitj^- but this is 
never the case. A bird can build only one kind of nest, 
a bee constructs only one kind of cell. The judgment 
used in animal functions would, if applied to other de- 
partments, make the animal a scientific architect, a master 
builder; but animals never act thus. If animal mind were 
of the same kind as human mind, it should improve by 
cultivation; but animals perform these skilful functions as 
well when young as when old. The opossum is as shrewd 
in his self-preservation ; the spider is as accurate in his 
geometrical web; the beaver as certain in the construc- 
tion of his dam, when young as when old. The horse, 
the hog, the dog, the parrot, etc. , are capable of some culti- 
vation; but it is the cultivation of association. 

333- 

If animal mind were of the same kind as human mind, it 
should be considered an immortal mind. 

Discussion, — We predicate immortality of a human 
mind, because the life of a human soul is based upon a 
conscious continuation of an identical personality^; because 



496 ANIMAI. MIND. 

of its rational conscience and its freedom of will. In ani- 
mals we can not find such attributes; and according to 
common conviction, animals do not act as if they were 
immortal beings, nor do we treat them as if they were. 
This common conviction might be an error of intellect; 
but revelation confirms the conviction. If, then, we are 
convinced that animal mind is not immortal, we must ac- 
cept the conclusion that animal mind differs from human 
mind not only in degree, but in kind. This inference is 
also confirmed by the utter absence of moral and religious 
impulses. The little bird that raises its head as if to 
praise God's love, is not acting out a religious impulse. 
The little throat construction demands such action. Ani- 
mal intellligence, or brute instinct, is a combination of ac- 
curate sensation, and conscious judgment based upon sen- 
sation. 



PsycVbolog-ical l^ecapit-ulou-t-ioru. 



/. Functions. 

Introspection. 
Sense Presentation. 
Eetention 
Kecollection. 
Recoj^nition. 
Ideal Combination. 
Ideal Creation. 
Direct Comparison. 
Abstraction. 
Generalization. 
Classification. 
Mediate Comparison. 
Immediate Conception. 

Emotional Generation. 
Mental Determination. 
Mental Execution. 



//. Processes. III. Products. 

Characterizations. Self-knowledge. 

" Sensations and Percepts. 

" Retained Percepts. 

" Recalled Percepts. 

" Recognized Percepts. 

'' Ideal Concepts. 

" Ideal Concepts. 

" Thoughts and Truths. 

" Abstract Ideas. 

" Abst. and Con. Concepts. 

" Judgments. 

" Truths and Judgments. 

" Prim'y Ideas and Truths. 

(, Emotions, Affections, 
Desires. 

J J Choice, (T, Initial Voli- 
tion. 

t^ Final, or Executive Vo- 
lition. 



Topics for f^ecreaixoru, 



Mental Laws. 


Origins. 


Theories. 


Sources. 


Suggestion. 


Etymologies. 


Missions. 


Definitions. 


Mental Characteristics. 


Proofs. 


Depravities. 


Culture. 



TEST TOPICS. 



These test topics are based upon the text discussions 
and upon suggestions growing out of the text. When 
the student has studied the text and committed the prop- 
ositions and confirmed them by use of illustrations, he 
should test his knowledge of the lesson by answering 
these test questions. If any one can handle these test 
topics, he understands what he has studied. The psy- 
chological framework and the following questions enable 
general readers to study psychology without a teacher. 

INTRODUCTION. 

I , Empirical science distinguished from rational science. 

2. The need of doubt and faith in psychologic induction. 

3. Importance of mature guidance and personal reflec- 
tion. 4. Three- fold importance of a course in psycholo- 
gy. 5. Prove the existence, and explain the nature, of 
mind. 6. Basis of scientific classification and its neces- 
sity. 7. Four characteristics of a distinct, or specific fac- 
ulty. 8. Number and nature of the comprehensive, or 
grand faculties. 9. Functions and faculties of the Intel- 
lect illustrated. 10. Criticism on five psychological sourc- 
es of information. 

CONSCIOUSNESS. 

I. Characterize consciousness as a power. 2. Is con- 
sciousness a condition of mental illumination ? 3. Char- 
acterize the function of consciousness. 4. What is meant 
22 



500 T K S T TOPICS. 

by distinct and complete consciousness ? 5. Is the mind 
conscious of every mental act ? 6. Characterize the prod- 
ucts of consciousness. 7. Contrast and comparison be- 
tween consciousness and perception. 8. Characterize the 
relation of consciousness to attention. 9. What is the re- 
lation of sensation to consciousness ? 10. Analogy and 
difference between nerve-impression and mind-cognition. 

11. Characterize pre-consciousness and its development. 

12. Characterize and illustrate sub-consciousness. 13. 
Characterize and illustrate abnormal consciousness. 14. 
How does mania affect consciousness ? 15. Why does a 
nervous shock affect consciousness? 16. What are the 
causes and remedies of morbid consciousness? 17. Dis- 
tinguish between natural and reflective consciousness. 

18. What can be said of philosophical consciousness? 

19. Characterize the domain of coUvSciousness. 20. Illus- 
trate the immediate cognitions of consciousness. 21. 
Write an essa}^ on the nature of self-consciousness. 22. 
How is consciousness related to the study of pS3^chology ? 
23. How and why should we cultivate consciousness ? 

ATTnNTION, 

I . How does interest differ from attention ? 2 . Explain 
and illustrate the values of attention. 3. Explain and 
illustrate automatic action. 4. Illustrate the two opera- 
tions under attention. 5. Distinguish sense-objects from 
thought-objects. 6. Show that attention has only one 
thought-object. 7. Explain and illustrate rapid transfer 
of mind. 8. Importance and means of cultivating atten- 
tion. 

PERCEPTION, 

I. The nature and mission of this power. 2. Prove 
that perception is a faculty. 3. How does the sensorium 
become a perceptive medium ? 4. Describe the percep- 
tive process. 5. Characterize each of the four perceptive 
links. 6. What is the relation of sense-contact to a per- 
cept ? 7. Define a percept and trace it to its sense- origin. 
8. Show that a percept contains three cognitions. 9. 
Show that in a percept the mind is self-conscious. 10. 



TEST TOPICS. 501 

Enumerate and define five conditions for perception. 11. 
Can there be no perception apart fi-om sense- organisms? 
12. Discuss the adaptation of the senses to external ob- 
jects. 13. Does sense- contact always lead to a percept ? 

14. What do we learn of external objects in a percept? 

15. Describe how in perception we cognize externality. 

16. Why is it not sufficient to know mere existence of 
objects? 17. Show how we learn qualities immediately 
and mediately. 18. How are all qualities classified ? On 
what bases ? 19. Derive and enumerate the qualities be- 
longing to each class. 20. What are the characteristics 
of each class of qualities ? 21. Prove the absolute impor- 
tance of five senses. 22. Discuss the accurate adaptation 
of each sense to external relations. 23. Characterize the 
reciprocal relation of body and mind. 24. What is the 
presence-chamber and the message-origin of the mind ? 
25. Show how the various temperaments have a sensori- 
um -basis. 26. Explain the possibility of reading charac- 
ter in the face. '27. Characterize the dependence of con- 
sciousness upon sensation. 28. What is the mission of 
touch ? What its information ? 29. What do we know 
through sight ? How do we know these items ? 30. 
What do we know through hearing ? How do we know 
each item ? 31. What do we know through smelling and 
tasting? Importance. 32. Is this .percept knowledge 
always immediate ? Discuss. 33. Prove that percepts 
have a corrective mission. 34. Show that percept hints 
are not intended to deceive. 35. Can we prove sense-in- 
formation unreliable ? 36. Give the argument from con- 
tradiction. 37. Trace the mental value of percept know- 
ledge. T,8. Trace the practical and moral value of sense- 
gateways. 39. Did God mean that we should cultivate 
the senses ? Why ? 40. How can we cultivate the 
senses ? With what effects ? 

MEMORY. 

I. The psychological and practical importance of men- 
tal representation. 2. The three -fold character of mental 
representation. 3. Analogy and difference between mem- 
ory and imagination. 4. Prove that the mind is repro- 
ductive, recognitive and creative. 5. Illustrate the vol- 



502 TEST Topics. 

iintary character of memory. 6. The number and rela- 
tion of the functions of memory. 7. What is meant by 
the chain of mental association. 8. What is the mental 
mission of contiguity or association ? 9. What is the 
nature of suggestion ? Why is it called a law ? 10. What 
is the relation between suggestion and contiguity ? 11. 
What is meant by ' ' laws of association' ' ? Criticise. 1 2. 
Enumerate and characterize the primary or objective re- 
lations of contiguity. 13. Characterize the secondary or 
subjective relations of contiguity. 14. What is the im- 
portant mission of subjective relations? 15. Enumerate 
these secondary or subjective relations. 16. Enumerate 
topics that illustrate primary and secondary relations. 
17. Illustrate the wide influence of suggestion by time 
and place. 18. Illustrate the influence of suggestion 
based on resemblance and contrast. 19. Illustrate the 
influence of suggestion based upon cause or effect. 20. 
Show the value of suggestion based upon continuance of 
attention. 21. Picture the memory -value of suggestion 
based on vividness of conception. 22. Discuss the men- 
tal and practical value of suggestion influenced by lapse of 
time. 23. Illustrate the influence of suggestion based 
upon exclusiveness of a.ssociation. 24. Discuss the peda- 
gogical value of suggestion based upon frequency of repe- 
tition. 25. lyike what does review seem to work upon 
memory? 26. Why does the state of the body affect 
memory, and how ? 27. What has the state of mind to 
do with memory ? 28, Why and how does temperament 
affect recollection ? 29. Compare the memory- contents 
of several temperaments. 30. How and why does occu- 
pation affect memory ? Illustrate. 31. The nature and 
aim of voluntary retention. 32. The rapidity and suc- 
cess of voluntary retention. 33. The possibility and value 
of involuntary retention. 34. The pedagogical value of 
the associating effort. 35. Enumerate 10 associations to 
be aimed at in " committing". 36. When is retention an 
interesting association ? Its value. 37. When is reten- 
tion a continued association ? Its educational value. 38. 
When is retention a repeated association ? Its educa- 
tional value. 39. When is retention an emphatic associ- 
ation ? Its educational value. 41. What has nervous 
tension to do with retention ? Prove it. 46. What has 



T K vS T T O P I C vS . 503 

the inter-relation of body and mind to do with retention ? 
43. Temperament and occupation in committing and re- 
taining. 44. Effect of exclusiveneSvS of association on re- 
tention. 45. The aid of objective relations in voluntary 
retention. 46. Distinguish mechanical from logical re- 
tention. Criticise. 47. Enumerate and discuss the edu- 
cational value of mechanical retention. 48. The value 
and relation of logical retention to Intellect. 49. The 
nature, basis, and purpose of Mnemonics. Criticise. 
50. The purpose of association in retention. Items of as- 
sociation. 51. Prove that memory retains equivalents 
for sensations. 52. Is memory a material receptacle ? 
Discuss. 53. Show the importance of retained percepts. 
54. Show that memory can retain products of all mental 
efiforts. 55. Trace the mysterious grasp of retention be- 
yond the grave. 56. What makes involuntary recollec- 
tion possible ? Illustrate. 57. Prove that recollection is 
also voluntary. 58. What must be the object of search 
in voluntary recollection ? 59. The relations of associa- 
tion most important to recollection. 60. Relation of re- 
tention to recollection. Illustrate. 61. The memory- 
value of the respective sense -gateways. 62. The peda- 
gogical value of eye-knowledge. 63. Conditions neces- 
sary for readiness of recollection. 64. The pedagogical 
value of voluntary exercise in recalling. * 65. Conditions 
necessary for accurate and complete recollection. 66. 
Mechanical retention in its relation to recollection. 
67. Account for the vividness of "description from 
memory. 68. The universal usefulness of description 
from memory. 69. Descriptive power of Niebuhr, ora- 
tors, novelists. 70. Disease, injury, and age affect the 
memory. Explain. 71. Recollection of forgotten knowl- 
edge explained. 72. The memor}^ of insanity and ner- 
vous exhaustion. 73. Explain the inaccuracy and incom- 
pleteness of memory in old age. 74. Interest and repe- 
tition in the memory of professional men. 75. The rela- 
tion of a good memory to a superior mental capacity. 
76. The nature of recognition and its vSubjective element 
illustrated. 77. The ultimate character of recognition, 
whether complete or incomplete. 78. The proper ante- 
cedents of accurate and complete recognition. 79. Recog- 
nition a requisite of rational mind. 80. Show that recog- 



504 T K S T 1* O P I C S . 

niti on saves from isolation. 81. Recognition a requisite 
in human affairs. 82. Recognition the voucher of per- 
sonal continuation. 83. Recognition in old age and be- 
yond the grave. 84. Recognition and life's sorrows. 

85. Deduce and enumerate the qualities of memory. 

86. Characterize the various kinds of memory. 87. Re- 
markable culture of memory possible. Illustrations. 88. 
Methods of culture, and native differences. 89. Enumer- 
ate the functions and products of memory. 

IMAGINATION. 

I. Analogy and difference between imagination and 
memory. 2. The argument that imagination is a distinct 
power. 3. The suggestive value of percepts, etc., to ideal 
creations. 4. Memory is a suggestive source of inspira- 
tion to imagination. 5. The regulative presence of judg- 
ment in ideal creations. 6. The refinings of taste in the 
creations of imagination. 7. The association and rela- 
tion of reasoning and imagination. 8. Intuition limits 
and modifies the products of imagination. 9. Essential 
distinctness of imagination as a power. 10. Suggestion 
is the primary law of imagination. 1 1 . Sensations and 
percepts as items in ideal creations. 12. The paint- 
er and the musician's suggestive sources. 13. Touch, 
flavor and fragrance are suggestions for imagination; 
14. The transcripts of memory distinguished from 
ideal combinatiotis. 15. The character and products of 
voluntary imagination. 16. Voluntary imagination in 
the domains of art. 17. Pen pictures of reverie and in- 
voluntary imagination. 18. Productive imagination dis- 
tinguished from reproductive imagination. 19. Is it 
proper to speak of a passive imagination ? 20. Enumer- 
ate the products of high art prompted by imagination. 
2 1 . Account for personal differences in imaginative capac- 
ity. 22. Imagination in the scientist and in the inventor. 
23. The distinctive features of so-called philosophical im- 
agination. 24. Ideal combinations are products of ideal 
modification. 25. Transformation of old material, size, 
shape, color, position. 26. Ideal creations are original 
products prompted by suggestion. 27. Distinguish ideal 
objects from idealized objects. 28. Pen-pictures of ideal 



T K S T T O r I O S . 505 

forms, ideal events, ideal characters. 29. The products 
of imagination differ in loftiness and purit}' of character. 
30. What is meant by the sensible drapery of ideal prod- 
ucts ? 31. The laws of limitation for ideal products. 32. 
The idea of space in ideal products; of time. 33. The 
limitation of essential properties of matter in ideal prod- 
ucts. 34. Imagination limited by the spheres and ac- 
tivity of mind. 35. Illustrate the elevating mission of 
imagination in life. 36. Imagination in oratory, paint- 
ing, sculpture, etc. 37. The pedagogical value of an ac- 
tive imagination. 38. Imagination in poetry, fiction, 
architecture. 39. Music inspired 1)}^ a lively imagination. 
40. Kulogize the mission of a healtliy imagination. 41. 
The mission of imagination in ideal aims and personal 
dCvStiny. 42. Child-life and youth in active ideal efforts. 
43. The hideous spell of a depraved imagination. 44. 
Transforming power of an unhealthy imagination. 45. 
Ghosts, fright, novels, drama, delirium, etc. 46. Fanati- 
cism, superstition, despair, exhaustion, exaggeration. 

47. Cautions with regard to cultivating imagination. 

48. The teacher's dut}^ to cultivate the pupil's imagina- 
tion. 49. The book of nature and the books of art. 50. 
An illustration of ideal creation : stud}- it. 51. Make a 
full synopsis of the imagination. 

THB UNDERSTANDING. 

I. Distinguish the thought-nature from other faculties. 
2. Whence come the materials of the understanding ? 
What are its products ? 3. The functions of the under- 
standing are preparatory and ultimate. 4. What is an- 
alysis ? Synthesis? Their relation? Illustrate. 5. 
Enumerate the five functions of the understanding. 6. 
Define comparison and mediate comparison. 

DIRECT COMPARISON. 

7. The basis of direct comparison, and its early devel- 
opment. 8. The basis of mediate comparison, and its 
distinct feature. 9. The analogy and difference between 
direct and mediate comparison. 10. What are the deci- 
sive functions of the understanding? 11. How many 



5o6 TEvST TOPICS. 

faculties in the understanding ? Why ? 12. Enumer- 
ate 'four functions intimatel}^ related. 13. Why are direct 
comparison and mediate comparison referred to two fac- 
ulties ? 14. Does reasoning involve judgment ? Is the 
reverse true ? 15. ^numerate the two distinct faculties 
of thought. 16. What are the functions of judgment ? 
What is implied ? 17. Show that direct comparison is an 
active and voluntary function. 18. To what extent is 
abstraction voluntary ? Illustrate. 19. To what extent 
is generalization voluntary ? Illustrate. 20. To what 
extent is classification voluntary ? Illustrate. 21. What 
is direct comparison ? Its design? Illustrate. 22. Show 
that direct comparison is a preparation for mechanical 
classification. 23. Show that necessary proximity makes 
direct comparison a synthetic process. 24. Illustrate 
proximity and sjaithesis in various direct comparisons. 
25. Show that direct comparison is the initial basis of 
thought and language. 26. Illustrate the process of di- 
rect comparison in forming thoughts. 27. Show that 
direct comparison is a necessary function for reasoning. 

ABSTRACTION. 

28. Show that abstraction is an analytic process. 29. 
Show the difference between percept- color and abstract- 
color. 30. Show the difference between a memory -color, 
and the abstract color. 3 1 . Show how a pure abstract is 
an absolutely particular idea. 32. Describe and illustrate 
the process of abstraction. 33. What is the origin of a 
pure abstract ? Define a pure abstract. 34. Show how 
all pure abstracts become more and more general. 35. 
Prove that all pure abstracts are particular only in their 
origin. 36. When is an abstract real ? When is it ideal ? 
Illustrate. 37. Divscuss the distinction between a pure ab- 
stract and an abstract concept. 38. Why is an abstract 
concept called abstract ? Why called a concept ? Illus- 
trate. 39. Show that all abstract concepts originate from 
pure abstracts. 40. Do we acquire pure abstracts con- 
sciously? Voluntaril)^ ? Illustrate. 41. Do any pure 
abvStracts remain absolutel}^ particular ? Illustrate. 42. 
How do we obtain a pure abstract ? Name the process. 
43. How are abstraction and generalization related ? 44. 



T K S T TOPICS. 507 

Show how synthesis at once follows abstraction. 45. Does 
direct comparison always precede abstraction ? 46. What 
pure abstracts can you enumerate ? 

GENERALIZATION. 

47. What is generalization ? What are its materials ? 
Its products ? 48. Illustrate the synthesis of shades and 
degrees in general concepts. 49. Enumerate several con- 
tents of the abstract concept hardness. 50. Show that 
generalization is a better basis for classification. 51. 
Name two products of generalization. Illustrate both. 
52. Compare the contents of an abstract concept with 
those of a concrete concept. 53. What is an abstract 
concept ? Illustrate with color. 54. Distinguish lower 
from higher generalizations. Illustrate. 55. How do 
we obtain an abstract concept ? Illustrate. 56. Show 
how the abstract concept color was formed. 57. Illus- 
trate the results of lower and of higher generalizations. 

58. Define a concrete concept. Is it a particular notion ? 

59. Show that a thought-pear is a concrete concept. 60. 
Why are our notions of things called concrete concepts ? 
Illustrate. 61. How do we obtain a concrete concept? 
Illustrate. 62. Show that a concrete concept represents 
properties common to a class. 63. Name many concrete 
concepts. Their wide content. 64. What is meant by 
the content of a general concept? 65. Are abstract con- 
cepts and concrete concepts always images ? 66. What 
is meant by the extent of a concrete concept ? 67. Has 
an abstract concept extent ? Illustrate. 68. Enumerate 
many concrete concepts. 69. Show that general concepts 
are the bases of scientific classification. 70. Show that 
general concepts are the basis of our language. 71. 
When is generalization formal ? When informal ? Il- 
lustrate. 

CLASSIFICATION. 

72. Show the relation between classification and gener- 
alization. 73. Distinguish mechanical from scientific 
classification. 74. What may be the basis of classifica- 
tion ? Illustrate. 75. What is the history of successive 
generalizations? Illustrate. 76. What distinguishes 
22* 



5o8 T IC S T TOPICS. 

earlier from later scientific products? 77. Characterize 
youthful and manly classifications. 78. What is the or- 
der of succession for abstraction, generalization, etc ? 79. 
Knumerate reasons why judgment, etc., should be culti- 
vated. 80. Give the outline for culture of the functions 
of judgment. 81. Illustrate the cultivation of abstrac- 
tion and generalization. 82. Illustrate the cultivation of 
direct comparison and classification. 83. Show the prac- 
tical importance of such culture. 84. What are the teach- 
er's responsibilities in this culture ? 

REASONING. 

I. Enumerate distinctions between reasoning and judg- 
ment. 2. Show that reasoning is an active and voluntary 
power. 3. Is reasoning always voluntary ? Discuss and 
illustrate. 4. Show how relations lie at the basis of medi- 
ate comparison. 5. Show how resemblance and contrast 
are the main relations. 6. What is a syllogism, and what is 
its construction ? Illustrate. 7. What is a judgment ? A 
proposition ? What are terms ? 111. 8. What is an enthy- 
meme ? Is the syllogism necessary in reasoning ? 9. How 
many propositions in a syllogism ? How many terms ? 10. 
What is the middle term ? The minor term ? The major 
term ? 11. What is the mission of the copula of a syllo- 
gism ? Illustrate. 12. What is meant by the quality and 
the quantity of propositions? Illustrate. 13. Enumer- 
ate, illustrate and explain the four kinds of propositions. 
14. What is meant by the opposition of propositions ? 15. 
Illustrate and explain propositions A, E, I, at^d O. 16. 
Commit and apply the formula of opposition. 17. Com- 
mit and illustrate the laws of opposition. 18. Commit 
and explain the laws of the vSyllogism. 19. Illustrate and 
discuss each law of the syllogism. 20. Upon what laws 
does the validity of a syllogism depend ? Illustrate. 21. 
Explain the law of identity and the law of contradiction. 

22. Explain and illustrate the law of excluded middle. 

23. Explain and illustrate the law of cause and effect. 

24. Explain and illustrate deductive and inductive syllo- 
gisms. 25. Why is a deductive syllogism valid ? An in- 
ductive syllogism ? 26. Explain and illustrate analytic 
and synthetic syllogisms. 27. What is meant by the or- 
der of premises in a syllogism ? Illustrate. 28. How 



r }') S T TOPIC s . 509 

can we know the major premivSe ? The minor premise ? 
29. What is a completed sjdlogism ? An enthymeme ? 
Illustrate. 30. How can an enthymeme be completed ? 
Illustrate. 31. Illustrate and explain categorical and hy- 
pothetical syllogisms. 32. Illustrate pure and modal syl- 
logisms. 33. What is meant by the figure of a syllogism ? 
Illustrate. 34. Illustrate and explain the first figure; the 
second; the third; etc. 35. Illustrate and explain the un- 
figured syllogism. 36. What is meant by the moods of a 
figure? Illustrate. 37. State and test the valid moods of 
figured syllogisms. 38. What is the value of each figure ? 
39. What is meant by conversion of syllogisms ? 40. 
What are sorites ? What sorites are historical ? Illus- 
trate both. 41. Anal3^ze sorites into pro-syllogisms and 
epi-sjdlogi.sms. 42. Is the syllogism unnecessary in some 
reasoning ? Illustrate. 43. What is meant by uniformit}^ 
of nature ? How UvSeful in reasoning ? 44. Account for 
the origin and validity of major premises. Illustrate. 45. 
Prove the reasonableness of our belief in nature's uniform- 
ity ? 46. Why did God implant belief in nature's uni- 
formity ? 47. What may make a major premise invalid ? 
Induction ? 48. What is meant by fair representation ? 
Illustrate fully. 49. What have nature's uniformity and 
fair representation to do with valid conclusions? 50. 
When are conclusions true ? When false ? Enumerate 
cautions. 51. Illustrate the syllogistic effect of a false 
premise. Discuss. 52. Why is master}^ of the sjdlogism 
and its laws quite important ? Illustrate. 53. By what 
kind of syllogisms is all knowledge developed ? Illus- 
trate. 54. Upon what is induction based ? Deduction ? 
Enumerate relations. 55. What is an absolute relation ? 
A dependent relation ? How determined ? 56. Distin- 
guish the domain of induction from that of deduction. 
57. What is meant by relations ? Enumerate and discuss 
illustrations. 58. Write syllogisms based on various re- 
lations and explain their force. 59. Define, illustrate, and 
discuss necessar}' truths. 60. Define, illustrate, and dis- 
cuss contingent truths. 61. Enumerate manj- necessarj^ 
truths and many contingent truths. 62. Show that per- 
ception and intuition are the sources of material for de- 
duction. 63. Show that deduction is analytic. Show 
that it is demonstrative. 64. What is the nature of intu- 



5IO tp:s t to p iCvS . 

itive truths? Illustrate from Geometry. 65. Show that 
the ideas and truths of intuition are abstract and general. 
66. Name several abstract sciences. Does perception as- 
sist these ? 67. What is it to " un-sense" the mind ? Il- 
lustrate. 68. Illustrate the construction of deductive sjd- 
logisms out of necessary truths. 69. Prove that a straight 
line is the shortest distance, etc. 70. Illustrate the force 
of a deductive syllogism. 7 1 . Show that a deductive con- 
clusion is rather demonstrative than cumulative. 72. If 
a syllogism is theoretically irresistible, is it also practical- 
ly so ? Illustrate. 73. What allowances must be made 
for conclusions of deduction ? Illustrate. 74. To what 
sciences has deduction given origin and shape ? Illus- 
trate. 75. Illustrate and discuss the practical value of 
rational sciences. 76. Show that induction is based upon 
materials of perception. 77. Illustrate and test the prem- 
ises of induction. 78. Show that the inductive syllogism 
is rather cumulative than demonstrative. 79. Show that 
induction is a cumulative synthesis. 80. Illustrate the 
cumulative synthesis of induction. 81. What is the do- 
main of induction ? Its boundary line ? 82. Enumerate 
practical domains of induction, and discuss. 83. Is the 
conclusion of induction a ' ' moral certainty' ' or a " moral 
necessity" ? 84. Illustrate the difference between moral 
certainty and moral necessity. 85. What are some empir- 
ical sciences? Why are they so called ? 86. Show that 
induction is useful in practical life. 87. Enumerate ten 
distinctions between induction and deduction. 88. Upon 
what four things does the evidence of contingent truths 
depend ? 89. What is meant by experimental induction ? 
Illustrate. 90. What is meant by observation ? By ex- 
periment ? Illustrate. 91. Enumerate things that make 
observation unreliable. What has culture or genius to do 
with successful experiment ? 93. Show that nature's uni- 
formity is reliable under like circumstances. 94. Enu- 
merate spheres in which experimental correction is neces- 
sary. 95. Illustrate false conclusions of incomprehensive 
induction. 96. In what spheres of life are inductive con- 
clusions unreliable ? 97. Characterize the conclusions of 
the physical sciences. 98. What things will make ex- 
perimental induction safe in Psychology, etc. ? 99. 
What is testimonv ? What does it include ? Define each. 



T i^: s T T o p r c s . 511 

100. What things do we know from traditional testimony ? 
loi. What things do we know from historical testimony ? 

102. What is the mission of legal evidence as testimony ? 

103. Illustrate the necessity of testimony in practical af- 
fairs. 104. Show that it is natural to believe in testi- 
mony. 105. What 3 reasons make belief in testimony 
reasonable? 106. Enumerate the deceptions of tradition, 
history and evidence. 107. Upon what two items does 
the credibility of testimonj^ depend ? 108. Illustrate how 
an observer or a witness may be self- deceived, 109. 
Show how the credibility of testimony depends upon the 
witness, no. Show that testimony dare not violate the 
laws of thought, in. Enumerate ten marks of reliable 
testimony. 112. Why should an intelligent man know 
the marks of testimony ? 113. Illustrate the desirability 
of many witnesses. 114. Illustrate and discuss the desir- 
ability of competent witnesses. 115. What kind of men 
can not give reliable testimony? 116. Illustrate the de- 
sirability of reputation for truthfulness. 117. Why 
should witnesses be of diverse vocations ? Illustrate. 

118. Enumerate many violations of diverse vocations. 

119. What is the force of evidence based upon diverse in- 
terests? 120. Explain how diverse modes of life prevent 
conspiracy in evidence. 121. What is the value of com- 
munity^ or tribe in testimony? Illustrate. 122. What 
have age and epoch to do with testimony ? Illustrate. 
123. What has diversity of education to do with legal 
evidence ? 1 24. Is testimony always dependent upon di- 
verse educations? 125. Enumerate environments that 
affect testimony. 126. Enumerate illustrations of the ef- 
fects of reputation in testimony. 127. Can reliable testi- 
mony never come from bad character? Illustrate. 128. 
What has absence of contrary motive to do with good 
testimony? IllUvStrate. 129. How is concurrence op- 
posed to collusion in testimony ? Illustrate. 130. Give 
four or five reasons for mastering the marks of testimony. 
131. Enumerate four degrees of force in conclusions from 
testimony. 132. When does a conclusion from testimony 
amount to suspicion ? 1 33. Illustrate the merely probable 
conclusion of testimony. 134. Enumerate illustrations 
of practical certainty in testimony. 135. Enumerate and 
discuss illustrations of logically certain testimony. 136. 



512 T K S T T O P I C S . 

What is meant by analogy? Discuss four illustrations. 
X37. Illustrate the difference between inductions from 
analogy and from experience. 138. Discuss the points of 
distinction in the above cases. 139. Who in practical 
life make use of analogy ? Illustrate. 140. Commit 
and discuss the law of analogy. Applications. 141. 
Illustrate the value of a conclusion from analogy. 142. 
Form and discuss syllogisms based upon analogy. 
143. Discuss illustrations of misleading analogy. 144. 
Discuss illustrations of counter-analogies. 145. Enu- 
merate illustrations of the value of analogy for de- 
fense. 146. Is a conclusion from analogy ever irresisti- 
ble ? Illustrate. 147. Discuss illustrations of analogy 
as an aid to experiment. 148. Define hypothesis, and 
account for its use. 149. Discuss the mission of hypothe- 
ses in life. 150. Define and illustrate a theory. How 
framed? 151. Enumerate historical hypotheses and 
speak of them. 152. How do hypotheses originate? 
Enumerate illustrations. 153. Discuss enumerated illus- 
trations of testing hypotheses. 154. What is meant by 
the verefication or rejection of hypotheses? 155. Does 
a theory ever become an absolute truth ? Illustrate. 
156. Enumerate verified historical hypotheses. 157. 
Enumerate rejected historical hypotheses. Remarks. 
158. Discu.ss enumerated illustrations of valuable rejected 
hypotheses. 159. Define and illustrate a theor^^ ? What 
may it become? 160. How do we distinguish a theorj^ 
from hypothesis? Illustrate. 161. Enumerate many 
practical divStinctions thus found. 162. Discuss the value 
and methods of cultivating induction. 163. Enumerate 
methods of culture for inductive reasoning. 164. The 
nature and methods of cultivating deduction. 165. Dis- 
cuss the points enumerated for deductive culture. 

INTUITION. 

I. Perception can not furnish certain ideas and truths. 
2. Define intuition, and tell how perception is related to 
it. 3. What is meant by an occasion in distinction from 
a cause ? 4. Discuss accurately the ' ' kernel' ' illustration 
of occasion and cause. 5. Discuss the illustrations of the 
powder-mill and Mr. I^. 6. Show that perception is the 



T ]-:s'r TO p I CvS . 513 

occasion of an active intuition. 7. Prove from conscious- 
ness, conduct, etc., the existence of primary ideas. 8. 
Show that all men act and think as if they knew primary 
ideas. 9. Show that primary ideas are fundamental and 
presupposed. 10. Prove that no faculty but intuition 
furnishes primary ideas. 11. Describe the origin of in- 
tuitive ideas under sense- occasions. 12. Show that in- 
tuition is not presentative, not representative, etc. 13. 
Show that the child wakes up with the capacity of intui- 
tion. 14. Show that primary products are immediate and 
sub- conscious. 15. Show that intuition becomes active 
under sense-occasions. 16. Show that suggestion is uni- 
versal and passive. 17. What is the exact relation of 
suggestion to intuition? Illustrate. 18. Explain why 
the origin of intuitive ideas is sub-conscious. 19. Prove 
logically that intuition can not be wholly involuntary. 
20. Show that intuition, or Reason, distinguishes man 
from brutes. 21. Explain the logical and chronological 
relations of intuition. 22. Describe the simultaneous ac- 
tivity of perception and intuition. 23. Characterize and 
illustrate the distinct products of this simultaneous activi- 
ty. 24. Why can we not recall the exact time of the ori- 
gin of primary ideas? 25. Illustrate the simultaneous 
activity of perception and intuition. 26. Prove that in- 
tuition is fundamental to memory. 27. Prove that intui- 
tion is fundamental to imagination. 28. Prove that in- 
tuition is fundamental to direct comparison. 29. Prove 
that intuition is fundamental to generalization. 30. 
Prove that intuition is fundamental to reasoning. 31. 
What is an idea? A primary idea? 32. What is a 
thought? A truth? Several sources? 33. What is a 
primary truth ? Illustrate primary truths. 34. Enumer- 
ate twelve primary ideas. 35. Show by analysis and an- 
alogy the chronological relation of ideas and truths. 36. 
Do writers admit the existence of primary truths ? Names 
given ? 37. Show that primar)^ ideas are not derived from 
sense. 38. Show that judgment can not furnish self-evi- 
dent truths. 39. Show that self-evident truths are funda- 
mental to reasoning. 40. Enumerate four tests for pri- 
mary truths. 41. Discuss the application of the test of 
self-evidence. 42. Discuss the applications of the test of 
necessit3^ 43. Discuss the applications of the test of 



514 TKS T T OPICS. 

simplicity. 44. Discuss the applications of the test of 
universality. 45. Enumerate historical admissions that 
there are primary truths. 46. Enumerate primary truths 
based upon six primary ideas. 47. Show how primary 
truths are related to the sciences. 48. Discuss the general 
classification of primary ideas. 49. Give a summary of 
proofs of the existence of primary truths. 

SPACE. 

50. Define space, and develop the items of this defini- 
tion. 51. Prove that space is not matter nor spirit. 52. 
Prove that space is not an idea or a figment of fancy. 53. 
Show that the idea of space can not originate from ab- 
straction. 54. Show that the idea of space can not orig- 
inate from generalization. 55. Why can the idea of space 
not originate from comparisons ? 56. Describe how per- 
ceived extension becomes a suggestion of the idea of space. 
57. When and how does intuition conceive the idea of 
space? 111. 58. Show that the idea of space could not 
originate apart from sense suggestion. 59. What is the 
producing power that conceives the idea of space ? 60. 
Could there be space, even if no mind conceived the idea 
of space? 61. What truths, or axioms are ba^ed upon 
the attributes of space? 62. Enumerate 5 attributes of 
space, and discuss their relation. 63. Enumerate geomet- 
rical axioms, and make remarks on geometry. 64. Is 
the study of geometry a mental discipline ? Illustrate. 
65. Is skill in geometry a test of practical judgment, 
etc. ? 

TIME. . 

66. Define time and develop the items of the definition. 
67. Tell just why it is difficult to define time. 68. Prove 
that time is rather an objective reality than a mere idea. 
69. Prove that time is not the mental effect of the rela- 
tion of thoughts. 70. Show that time still continues even 
when thoughts have ceased. 71. What is the relation of 
succession of events to time ? 72. Why may we speak of 
a somewhere in time ? Illustrate. 73. Enumerate items 
that occupy time. Develop each item. 74. Show that 



T K vS T T O P I C S . 51 5 

the idea of time is not a direct percept. 75. Prove that 
the idea of time was never a pure abstract. 76. Prove 
that the idea of time does not result from ordinary syn- 
thesis. 77. Describe the instantaneous and sub-conscious 
origin of the idea of time. 78. Show how succession of 
earliest thoughts suggested the idea of time. 79. De- 
scribe how intuition caught the suggestion of protended 
events. 80. Describe how intuition caught the sugges- 
tion of protended thoughts. 8 1 . Discuss the necessity of 
suggestion to the idea of time. 82. Sum up the discus- 
sion on the intuitive origin of the idea of time. 83. Why 
can children not accuratel}' estimate the amount of time ? 
84. Describe and apply the gradually lengthening stand- 
ard of measure. 85. How does .sleep affect our estimate 
of time passed through ? 86. Why do dreams seem to 
occupy so much time ? 87. How do time-pieces aid our 
estimates of time passed through ? 88. Enumerate items 
that cause us to lose our place in time. 89. Discuss the 
importance of knowing our somewhere in time. 90. 
What axioms are based upon the attributes of time ? 91. 
Enumerate and discuss 4 attributes of time. 92. Discuss 
the practical applications of the attributes of time. 

IDENTITY. 

93. Define identity and explain the items of this def- 
inition. 94. What is the question of identity ? Illus- 
trate. 95. Show how the idea of identity is opposed to 
that of plurality. 96. Prove that identity is not mere re- 
semblance. Illustrate. 97. Prove that identity does not 
consist in sameness of chemical composition. 98. Enu- 
merate and discuss illustration.^ of the above distinction. 
99. What is meant by complete identity ? Incomplete 
identity? IllUvStrate. 100. Enumerate 4 kinds of iden- 
tity, and tell why .so called. 10 1. What is absolute iden- 
tit}^ ? Enumerate and divScu.ss illustrations. 102. What 
is personal identit}^ ? Enumerate and discu.ss essential 
elements. 103. Prove that personal identity is histori- 
cally and eternally necessary. 104. What is identity of 
organic identity ? Enumerate and discuss essential ele- 
ments. 105. Prove that organic identity is an organic 
neces.sity. 106. Illustrate the identity of animals and 



5l6 TKST TOPICS. 

plants. 107. Trace the universal and practical impor- 
tance of organic identity. 108. What is identity of in- 
organic matter ? Enumerate and discuss essential ele- 
ments. 109. Give a summary -enumeration of all kinds 
of identity, no. Show that identity is an objective real- 
ity. Illustrate, in. Show that the idea of identity 
never was a pure abstract. 112. Can the idea of identity 
originate from generalization? Explain. 113. Discuss 
the illustrations of the origin of the idea of identity. 114. 
Show how comparison becomes a suggestion for the idea 
of identity. 115. Enumerate and apply 4 steps in the 
origin of the idea of identity. 116. What is the axact re- 
lation of comparison and intuition? Illustrate. 117. 
What has consciousness to do with the origin of this idea? 
118. Discuss illustrations to prove that coiisciousness is 
not identity. 119. Show that not consciousness, but 
recognition is the evidence of identity. What has identi- 
ty to do with recognition and retribution ? 121. Analyze 
illustrations of mistaken identity. 122. Show that iden- 
tity is the basis of confidence. 123. Show that identity 
is the basis of progress and improvement. 124. Show 
that recognition presupposes identity. 125. Sum up the 
practical values of detected identity. 126. What has 
identity to do with ' ' morgues' ' , " prodigals' ' , " heaven' ' ? 
127. What has identity to do with all retribution ? 128. 
How is detected identity related to justice ? Illustrate. 
129. The relation of preserved identity to propagation of 
species. 130. What has identity to do with Darwinian- 
ism ? 

CAUSE. 

131. Define a cause, and discuss this definition. 132. 
What is the significance of the word phenomenon ? Illus- 
trate. 133. Are phenomena regarded as causes or as ef- 
fects? 134. What is the fixed relation of cause and ef- 
fect ? Illustrate. 135. Illustrate and prove that mere 
antecedence is not cause. 136. What is meant by an ef- 
fective antecedent? An agent ? 137. Of what may we 
speak as causes? As ultimate causes? 138. Illustrate 
causes in various domains of life. 139. What is the re- 
lation of an occasion to a cause? Give illustration. 140. 



T K vS T T O P I C vS . 517 

Aristotle's classification of causes. Illustrations analyzed. 
141. What were the causes of creation? Discuss. 142. 
Show how vicinity of antecedence and subsequence sug- 
gests cause. 143. Early and sub-conscious origin of the 
idea of cause. 144. Illustrate and discuss the effect of 
mental vicinity upon intuition. 145. Enumerate early 
conformations of conduct to the idea of cause. 146. Prove 
the early origin of the notion of universal causation. 147. 
Could the notion of universal causation be derived from 
induction? 148. Prove that we can not get rid of the 
notion of cause. 149. Prove that the law of causation is 
an inevitable law. 150. Prove that universal causation is 
a fundamental belief. 151. What sciences are the prod- 
uct of search after causes ? 152. Can we intelligently in- 
terpret history apart from causation ? 153. What has the 
notion of causation to do with practical life ? 

THE AESTHETIC. 

154. Reasons for a three-fold classification of the Aes- 
thetic. 

THE BEAUTIFUL. 

155. What items make it difficult to comprehend the 
Beautiful? 156. Characterize briefly three kinds of the- 
ories as to the beautiful. 157. Enumerate presumptions 
against subjective and objective theories. 158. Presump- 
tions in favoi*of the spiritual theory. 159. Enumerate 
the principal subjective theories. 160. General preface 
upon these subjective theories. 161. Statement and refu- 
tation of the emotion theory. 162. Statement and refu- 
tation of the association theory. 163. Analyze many 
common-sense experiences. 164. Statement and refuta- 
tion of the reflection theory. 165. Show that the reflec- 
tion theory is ludicrous and contradictory. 166. Show 
that the reflection theory is a violation of common sense. 
167. Analyze several illustrations to prove the theory un- 
satisfactory. 168. Statenient and refutation of the obser- 
vation theory. 169. Prove the observation theory to be 
unsatisfactory and contradictory. 170. Enumerate 4 ob- 
jective theories of the beautiful. 171. General remarks on 



5l8 TEST TOPICS. 

these objective theories. 172. Explain how the object- 
ive theories lead to the spiritual theory. 173. State- 
ment and refutation of the novelty theory, 174. An- 
alyze many illustrations to prove the novelty theory false. 
175. Prove the novelty theory to be unsatisfactory and 
contradictor}^ 176. Statement and refutation of the 
utility theory. 177. Analyze many illustrations to prove 
the novelty theory contradictory, etc. 178. Do we call a 
thing beautiful after we see its usefulness? 179. Dis- 
tinguish the mental effects of the beautiful and of the use- 
ful. 1 80. Statement and refutation of the order and pro- 
portion theory. 181. Relation of the order and propor- 
tion theory to the spiritual theory. 182. Statement and 
refutation of the unity and variety theory. 183. Analyze 
many illustrations to prove the inadequacy of this theory. 
184. What are the elements of truth in the unity and 
variety theory? 185. State the spiritual theory of the 
beautiful. 186. Analyze many illustrations to show the 
nature and expressions of the beautiful. 187. General 
remarks on the spiritual theory. 188. Application of the 
spiritual theory to inorganic things. 189. Application of 
the spiritual theory to organic things. 190. Application 
of the spiritual theory to animals. 191. Application of 
the spiritual theory to human beings. 192. Show that 
Art confesses degeneracy of human beauty. 193. Appli- 
cation of the spiritual theory to the fine arts. 

THE SUBIvIME. 

194. Define the sublime and discuss its nature. 195. 
Enumerate the expressive mediums of the sublime. 196. 
What are the effects of the sublime upon us ? 197. An- 
alj^ze illustrations of the expressions of the sublime. 198. 
Portray sublime situations based upon 6 expressive 
mediums. 

THE I.UDICROUS. 

199. What are wit and humor? What is meant by the 
ludicrous ? 200. What seems to be the element of the ludi- 
crous? 201. Analyze illustrations of the ludicrous. 202. 



TKvS T TO PI CS . 519 

How does the ludicrous manifest itself? Illustrate. 203. 
What are the effects of the ludicrous upon man ? 

ORIGIN OF THE AESTHETIC IDEAS. 

204. Discuss the early origin of the aesthetic ideas. 
205. Analyze illustrations of early perception of aesthetic 
things. 206. The intuitive idea of the aesthetic and 
sense- suggestion. 207. Trace the development of the 
aesthetic idea as a standard. 208. When does the intui- 
tive idea become the standard of mature taste? 209. De- 
fine taste, and state its functional process. 210. What is 
the relation of emotion to the activity of taste ? 211. 
Show that taste is a direct comparison based on an intui- 
tive standard. 212. Analyze illustrations of the opera- 
tions of taste. 213. Illustrate and characterize good 
taste and poor taste. 214. If there is a standard of taste, 
account for personal variance. 215. Are not some things 
universally called beautiful, etc.? 216. A summary of 
mental progression in the presence of the aesthetic. 217. 
The importance of cultivating our taste. 218. Enumera- 
tion of methods for cultivating taste. 219. The pedagogi- 
cal value of aesthetic influences. 220. The teacher's duty 
in aesthetic matters. 221. Is it God's wish that we 
should cultivate taste ? 

THE MORAL. 

222. What is meant by the word moral ? Its threefold 
nature. 223. Efforts to explain the moral, and the neces- 
sity of accuracy. 224. Why is it of vital importance to know 
a correct explanation? 225. Enumerate four tests of 
moral theories. 226, What is meant by the conduct-test ? 
Develop. 227. What is the consciousness-test ? Why is 
it valuable ? 228. Enumerate two laws of thought, and 
apply to the moral. 229. What is meant b}^ the test of 
psychologic precedence ? 230. Develop the statement of 
psychologic precedence. 231. Enumerate four defective 
theories of right and wrong. 232. Statement and refuta- 
tion of the highest happiness theory. 233. Apply the 4 
enumerated tests to concrete illustrations. 234. State- 
ment and refutation of the utility theory of right. 235. 



520 TKvST TOPICS. 

Apply the 4 enumerated tests to concrete illustrations. 
236. Statement and refutation of the legal enactment 
theory. 237. Apply the 4 enumerated tests to concrete 
illustrations. 238. What would be the practical results 
of the legal enactment theory ? 239. State fully and 
clearly the nature of things theory. 240, Apply the 
common sense test to this theory. 241. State the correct 
theory of right and wrong. 242, Develop at length the 
correct theory of the moral, 243. Apply the 4 enumer- 
ated tests to the correct theory. 244. Where is the cor- 
rect theorj^ written for men ? 245. What are the practi- 
cal effects of the correct theory ? 246. Show that the 
moral is not a figment of fancy. 247. Show that the cor- 
rect theory accords with revelation. 

ORIGIN OF THE MORAI^ IDEAS. 

248. Enumerate six defective theories of moral ideas. 

249. Statement and refutation of the education theory. 

250. Analyze many concrete illustrations. 251. State- 
ment and refutation of the association theory. 252. State- 
ment and refutation of the imitation theory. 253. Apply 
the 4 enumerated tests to the imitation theory. 254. 
Statement and refutation of the legal enactment theory. 

255. Statement and refutation of the moral sense theory. 

256. Statement and refutation of the sympathy theory. 

257. Apply the 4 enumerated tests to this theory. 258. 
True theory of the origin of the idea of right and wrong. 

259. Show that the moral idea is not of sense-origin. 

260. Prove that the moral idea is a connate, primary prod- 
uct. 261. Analyze illustrations, and apply the tests for 
primary truths. 262. Prove the existence of a moral 
nature. 263. Analyze enumerated proofs of the existence 
of conscience. 264. Enumerate important questions as 
to conscience. 265. Define conscience and characterize 
its function. 266. Develop the threefold function of 
conscience. 267. Analyze a concrete illustration of moral 
tribunal activity. 268. Discuss the intuitive standards 
of moral comparisons. 269. Detect direct comparison, 
intuition, and emotion in conscience-activity. 270. Mas- 
ter the mental formula of moral experience. 271. When 
is the authority of conscience final ? 272. What have 



TEST TOPICS. 521 

sanity and mature intelligence to do with conscience ? 
273. Analyze many illustrations of the above. 274. 
What culture of the intuitive cognitions of right is 
necessary? 275. Discuss the importance of moral cult- 
ure. 276. Analyze many illustrations of neglected cult- 
ure. 277. What is the value of the Bible to conscience ? 
278. What has thorough enlightenment to do with con- 
science ? 279. How shall we obtain full information for 
conscience ? 280. Analyze many illustrations of diverse 
moral decisions. 281. Enumerate items that modify de- 
cisions of conscience. 282. What has freedom from wrong 
motives to do with conscience ? 283. Illustrate the mor- 
al effects of prejudice. 284. Illustrate the moral effects 
of self-interest. 285. Illustrate the moral effects of pas- 
sion. 286. Conscience and our personal relation to an 
act of life. 287. When may conscience err? May the 
Christian err? 288. What is to be done when there are 
conflicting motives ? 289. Enumerate items that may 
constitute conflicting motives. 290. Enumerate items 
that may lead to conscientious bigotry. 291. Enumerate 
items with reference to which bigotry often decides. 292. 
The conscience that is like a good but mistaken watch. 

293. Enumerate persons who mistake ' like' ' for ' 'ought' ' . 

294. Describe the wretched condition of those deluded by 
**like". 295. Describe the torments of an awakened con- 
science. 296. Can we prove that any faculty is given to 
deceive us ? 297. Prove that conscience is an adequate 
earthly guide. 298. Under what neglects will conscience 
become untrustworthy ? 299. In what respects do we 
find diversity of conscience ? 300. What effect have cult- 
ure and information on conscience ? 301. Analyze illus- 
trations of developed consciences. 302. Distinguish ab- 
solute right from relative right. 111. 303. Is it ever true 
that "the end justifies the means" ? 111. 304. What has 
intention to do with relative right ? 111. 305. What is 
a feeble or timid conscience ? 111. 306. What may be 
causes of unhealthy consciences? 307. How may the 
feeble conscience be strengthened ? 308. What is a 
bleared or a reckless conscience ? 111. 309. What things 
lead to a bleared or a reckless conscience ? 310. How 
may the bleared or reckless conscience be cured? 311. 
What is meant by practical ethics ? Axioms ? 312. What 



522 TEST TOPICS. 

are man's three-fold ethical duties? 313. Are we re- 
sponsible for the cultivation of conscience ? 314. Discuss 
the importance of moral culture. 315. Characterize the 
dignity of a moral manhood. 316. In what earthly 
spheres is a good conscience needed ? 317. Illustrate and 
discuss three methods for cultivating conscience. 318. 
Has the public school ajij'thing to do with moral culture ? 

EMOTIONAL NATURE. 

I. The triune nature of mind — the three pS3^chological 
H's. 2. Is the emotional nature a mental faculty ? Ex- 
plain. 3. Develop the four enumerated proofs of the ex- 
istence of an emotional nature. 4. A word portrait of 
the bright side of the emotional nature. 5. A word por- 
trait of the dark side of the emotional nature. 6. Discuss 
the psychological necessity of the precedence of ideas. 7. 
The balanced mind; the unbalanced mind; analysis and 
illustrations. 8. Enumerate many illustrations of heart- 
life in history and literature. 9. Prove the practical and 
psychological necessity of an emotional nature. 10. 
Enumerate man)^ illustrations of the moral value of heart- 
life. II. Give word portraits of lives that throbbed with 
feelings. 12. Classification of feelings justified and illus- 
trated. 13. When is a feeling said to become a passion ? 
111. 14. The law of opposition with reference to feelings. 

15. The character and two-fold origin of simple emotions. 

16. The two- fold character and the two-fold origin of the 
affections. 17. The three elements of a desire a succes- 
sive development. 18. The physical and mental bases of 
desires, and their necessity. 19. Enumeration of simple 
emotions, instinctive and rational. 20. The nature of 
cheerfulness and its common manifestations. 21, The 
natural prevalence of cheerfulness in childhood and youth. 
22. The infrequent and rational prevalence of cheerful- 
ness in old age. 23. Word-portraits of cheerful childhood 
and of cheerful old age. 24. An enumeration of effects 
in the mission of cheerfulness. 25. The nature of melan- 
choly and its shadow-like presence. 26. Enumeration of 
testimonies that melancholy may be hereditary. 28. Mel- 
ancholy after grief is a gloomy heart-pressure. 29. Ac- 
count for the frequency of poetic melancholy. 30. The 



TESTTOPICS. 523 

corrective mission and the destructive mission of melan- 
choly. 31. Word-portraits of the nature and character- 
istics of sorrow. 32. Enumeration of causes that may 
bring sorrow. 33. Diverse manifestations of intense sor- 
row. Many illustrations. 34. Sorrow for the dead — 
cherished monuments ! 35. Why should sorrows be healed 
in this life ? 36. What has lapse of time to do with sor- 
rowing hearts ? 37. The practical and eternal mission of 
sorrow. 38. Analyze enumerated illustrations of sorrow- 
ing men. 39. Analyze enumerated illustrations of the 
nature and strength of sympathy. 40. Prove that real 
sympathy is instinctive and unselfish in origin. 41. Ana- 
lyze many illustrations on the mission of sympathy. 42. 
Enumerate the four instinctive simple emotions. Give 
propositions. 43. Enumerate and characterize the ration- 
al simple emotions. 44. The nature of the enjoyment of 
self-excellence. Object of contemplation. 45. Enumer- 
ate items that may constitute self-excellence. 46. Prove 
that comparison is the origin of the enjoyment of self-ex- 
cellence. 47. What have mood and exaggeration to do 
with self-excellence? 48. Portray lives that are actuated 
by proper humility and self-respect. 49. Does the good 
Book forbid self-respect? Illustrate. 50. Enumerate 
perverted forms of the enjoyment of self- excellence. 51, 
Characterize the man of pride. Is pride reasonable ? 52. 
Characterize the man of vanity. Why is vanity, contempt- 
ible? 53. Characterize the man of conceit. Why is 
conceit disgusting ? 54. Characterize the man of arro- 
gance; of servility and fawning. 55. What is meant by 
the ludicrous ? Incongruity ? Relations ? 111. 56. Show 
that enjoyment of the ludicrous arijses from rational per- 
ception. 57. Enumerate three effects of the ludicrous up- 
on rational beings. 111. 58. Show that surprise is the 
chief effect of incongruity. 59. Enumerate the principal 
forms of the ludicrous. 60. Universal prevalence of tricks, 
jokes and fun. 61. DiscUvSS jesting. Analyze illustra- 
tions of blunder. 62. What has apparent or real inno- 
cence to do with blunder ? 63, What is to be said about 
puns and punning ? 111. 64. What is burlesque ? Its 
objects? Writers? 65. What is mock-heroic? Its ob- 
ject? Writers? 66. What is satire ? Sarcasm? Their 
missions? Writers? 67. When will new and unex- 

23 



524 TEST TOPICS . 

pected relations of incongruity not be ludicrous? 68. 
Eniimerate many practical spheres for wit and liumor. 

69. How does Sydney Smith characterize wit and humor ? 

70. What is to be said of the danger of depraved wit ? 

7 1 . What is meant by novelty ? Variety ? Their ef- 
fect ? 72. Do novelty and variety always lead to pleasing 
surprise ? 73. Tell just how enjoyment of novelty and 
variety is awakened. 74. What has curiosity to do with 
our attainments ? 75. Discuss several missions of novelty 
and variety. 76. When does enjoyment of novelty and 
variety become ridiculous? 77. Enumerate causes of 
ennui. What is ennui ? 78. Enumerate many practical 
values of ennui. 79. Enumerate cases in which ennui 
makes fools of men. 80. What did God not intend to be 
the mission of ennui ? 81. What is the pedagogical value 
of surprise and ennui ? 82. Psychological capacity to en- 
joy the beautiful. 83. Enumerate many manifestations 
to prove that men love the beautiful. 84. What may be 
inferred from disgust awakened by the ugly ? 85. A con- 
trast-view of how the beautiful and the ugly affect us. 
86. Is admiration reflective or immediate ? Voluntary or 
involuntary? 87. Analyze illustrations to prove that cog- 
nition precedes admiration, 88. Is there more feeling in 
the child or in the art critic ? 89. Point out analogies 
between the enjoyment of the beautiful and of the sub- 
lime. 90. How does enjoyment of the beautiful differ 
from enjoyment of the sublime? 91. Enumeration of 
items that inspire us with awing admiration. 92. Illus- 
trate distinctions between the effects of the beautiful and 
of the sublime. 93. What are the emotional effects when 
the beautiful combines with the sublime ? 94. Give a 
word portrait of the above combination. 95. Enumerate 
the missions of the beautiful; of the sublime. 96. The 
redemptive power of the beautiful and the sublime. 97. 
Enumerate nature's voices of the beautiful and the sub- 
lime. 98. The perfect adaptation of nature to our aes- 
thetic nature. 99. Naturalness of aesthetic enjoyment; 
neglect of culture. 100. The psychological and practical 
necessity of moral feeling. loi. The sustaining joj^ous- 
ness of a good conscience. Illustrations. 102. The uni- 
versal desirability of a sustaining moral feeling. 103. 
Analyze many enumerated illustrations of a sustaining 



TEST TOPICvS. 525 

conscience. 104. Discuss the three- fold manifestation of 
moral satisfaction. 105. A word portrait on the nature 
of remorse. 106. The intense bitterness and the future 
voice of remorse. 107. The voice of a guilty conscience 
in eternal torment. 108. Word portraits on the demon- 
like pursuit of remorse. 109. The missions of moral 
satisfaction and of remorse, no. The practical and mor- 
al necessity for moral feeling, in. Can remorse ever be 
crushed or slighted? 112. The pedagogical values of 
moral feeling. 

THn AFFECTIONS. 

I. The origin and nature of an affection. Two essen- 
tial characteristics. 2. Classification of all affections. 
Enumeration of benevolent affections. 3. General defi- 
nitions of each benevolent affection. 4. Enumeration of 
malevolent affections. General definitions. 5. The ori- 
gin and character of a passio]|j. Word portraits. 6. De- 
scribe the results in each case when an affection becomes 
a passion. 7. Enumerate proofs that love of kindred is 
an original impulse. 8. Enumerate proofs that love of 
kindred can not come from association. 9. Illustrate 
proofs that love of kindred is a universal love. 10. Dis- 
cuss apparent exceptions and draw the proper inference. 
1 1 . Enumerate practical missions for love of kindred. 12. 
Unnatural kindred; causes of such depravity; enumerate 
illustrations. 13. Enumerate historical characters noted 
for their love of kindred. 14. What is to be said of 
mother's love ? 15. What has love of kindred to do with 
society and manliness ? 16. The desirability and univer- 
sality of friendship. Illustrations. 17. Show that sym- 
pathy and congeniality constitute • the essence of friend- 
ship. 18. Does mere association result in friendship? 
The effect of association. 19. Enumerate effects result- 
ing from congenial companionship. 20. Proofs that as- 
sociation which reveals a unison chord results in friend- 
ship. 21. Of what may the unison chord of friendship 
consist ? 111. 22. What diversity of character is con- 
sistent with true friendship ? 23. How will the kindred 
spirit of friendship reveal itself? When ? 24. How is 
love distinguished from friendship ? 25. Enumerate his- 



526 TKSTTOPICS. 

torical characters noted for noble friendships. 26. Enu- 
merate things that will test the permanency of friendship. 
27. The breaking of true friendship. Sad loss of confi- 
dence. 28. What may be said of "many" friendships; 
"exclusive" friendship ? 29. The practical and beautiful 
works of bosom friendship. 30. Characterize "sacred" 
friendship. Enumerate its choices. 31. What is grati- 
tude ? How is it prompted ? How measured ? 32. 
Enumeration of gifts that prompt to joyous gratitude. 
33. Enumeration of effects upon a sorrowing million. 34. 
Show that gratitude is a combination of joyousness and 
benevolence. 35. Does fervency of gratitude depend on 
the value of a gift ? 36. What has the donor's motive to 
do with gratitude ? 37. How is manifestation of grati- 
tude modified by temperament and environments ? 38. 
Characterize ingratitude, and censure it properly. 39. 
Prove that patriotism is connate, universal and often in- 
stinctive. 40. Enumerate proofs that patriotism is also 
a rational love. 41. Show hpw patriotism is affected by 
association. Illustrate. 42. By what things is the fer- 
vency of patriotism modified ? 43. Illustrate the effects 
of necessity, rivalry, language, &c., on patriotism. 44. 
Enumerate manifestations of national pride. Criticise. 
45. What tends to erase a nation's individuality? Crit- 
icise. 46. Enumerate illustrations of patriotism waking 
from slumber. 47. Prove that one mission of patriotism 
is self-protection. 48. Prove that the second mission of 
patriotism is tribal separation. 49. What analogy is there 
between patriotism and parental love ? 50. Nature and 
characteristics of philanthropy. 51. Show that sympa- 
thy is the origin and essence of philanthropy. 52. Enu- 
merate persons noted for philanthropy. Describe their 
work. 53. What are two chief missions of philanthropy ? 
Illustrate. 54. Enumerate evidence that piety is original 
and universal. 55. Account for the inte'nsity of piety. 
What of impiety ? 56. Enumerate many beautiful offer- 
ings of true piety. 57. What has piety done for history ? 
For the world? 58. What is the high psychological 
prerogative of true piety ? 59. Discuss the original and 
universal presence of malevolent affections. 60. Show 
that malevolent affections amount to displeasure plus re- 
sentment. 61. Are all forms of * resentment culpable? 



TEST TOPICS. 527 

Name forms. 62. Illustrate the instinctive character of 
anger, or resentment. 63. Enumerate illustrations of in- 
stinctive and of rational resentments. 64. Can any thing 
erase resentment from the human heart ? 65. Illustrate 
and discuss the origin and nature of resentment. 66. Is 
resentment always directed toward malefactors ? Discuss. 
67. By what things is the intensity of resentment modi- 
fied ? Illustrate. 68. Show how natural temperament 
may affect resentment. 69. Show how detection of mo- 
tives may affect resentment. 70. Is mercy inconsistent 
with divine wrath ? 71. Enumerate illustrative proofs 
that protection is a mission of resentment. 72. Enumer- 
ate illustrative proofs that justice is a mission of resent- 
ment. 73. IllUvStrate the relation of mercy to punitive 
justice. 74. Enumerate 3 forms of depraved resentment. 

75. Prove that normal resentment is a divine endowment. 

76. Show that we must struggle against unreasonable re- 
sentment. 77. How may self-control influence natural 
resentment? 78. Enumerate illustrations of uncontrolled, 
unreasonable resentment. 79. What is envy ? Objects of 
envy ? Restraint and envy ? 80. What is jealousy ? 
Its origin ? Its intensity ? Its fruits ? 81. Enumerate 
illustrations of jealousy and its character. 82. What is 
revenge ? Its manifold manifestations ? Its violence ? 
83. Enumerate illustrations of revenge and its horrible 
nature. 84. Practical missions of normal resentment. 

85. Show that disapprobation checks violent resentment. 

86. Show that counter-resentment checks violent resent- 
ment. 87. Show that humiliation checks violent resent- 
ment. 88. Write a detailed outline on the affections. 
89. Give all the propositions on the affections. 90. Dis- 
cuss the pedagogical relation to all affections. 

DESIRES. 

90. Relation of desire and aversion; objects of desire 
and of aversion. 91. The three essential characteristics 
of a desire explained. 92. Basis of animal desires; of 
rational desires. Enumerations. 93. Distinguish ac- 
quired desires from constitutional desires. 94. Enumer- 
ate two necessary antecedents of every desire. 95. What 
has absence of an object to do with desire ? Illustrate. 



528 TEST TOPICS. 

96. What has intellectual apprehension to do with pro- 
ducing desire ? 97. What has previous enjoyment to do 
with leading to desire? 98. The impulsive force of de- 
sires. Missions of animal desire. 99. Practical and psy- 
chological missions of rational desire. 100. How are our 
desires modified by intelligence or ignorance ? loi . What 
has temperament to do with the direction and emphasis 
of desire? 102. What has the valuation of an absent 
object to do with the strength of desire ? 103. How does 
the growth of desire depend upon hope deferred ? 104. 
Rational control over desires that are hopeless. 105. 
Voluntary conquest secures subordination of desires. 106. 
The life- desolation resultant from yielding to passions. 

107. Enumerate important missions of each animal desire. 

108. Show that normal animal desires are unselfish. 109. 
What can you say of desire for stimulants? no. Enu- 
meration of rational desires and their objects, in. Show 
that desire for happiness is an original and universal en- 
dowment. 112. What is happiness? Has this world 
more sorrow? 113. Enumeration of things that make 
men happy. 114. Show that desire for happiness is a 
most potent impulse. 115. When is desire for happiness 
selfish? When is it unselfish ? 116. Why does clinging 
to life prove that life is a source of happiness ? 117. His- 
torical expressions to prove men's love of life. 118. 
Show that suicide is horribly unnatural. 119. Enumer- 
ate three missions of the desire for happiness. 120. 
Word portraits of a world that should lack desire for hap- 
piness. 121. Explain how desire for happiness prompts 
the hope for immortality. 122. Show that desire for hap- 
piness makes men morally cautious. 123. Enumerate 
three violations of the desire for happiness. 124. Word 
portraits of the misery caused by such violations. 125. 
What is meant by power ? Detection of its possession. 
126. How does enjoyment of power lead to desire for 
power? 127. Enumerate practical results of the desire 
for power. 128. Illustrate and define the strength of the 
desire for power. 129. What is emulation? Is it safe 
to encourage emulation ? 1 30. How is emulation affected 
by envy and selfishness? Effects? 131. Is emulation 
consistent with proper subordination ? 132. What is am- 
bition ? Enumerate its various domains. 133. Word 



TKST TOPICS. 529 

portraits of lives prompted by passionate ambition. 134. 
The practical value of a reasonable desire for power. 
135. Evil results of an envious and unreavSonable ambi- 
tion. 136. Historical outgrowths of the desire for power. 
137. Show that desire for knowledge is a universal im- 
pulse. 138. When does desire for knowledge have a 
moral character? Illustrate. 139. Account for excep- 
tions to the desire for knowledge. 140. How is the ac- 
quisition of knowledge affected by desire for knowledge ? 
141. Practical motives joined to desire for knowledge: 
results ? 142. DCvSire for knowledge interprets the voices 
of nature. 143. What is denoted by the word possession ? 
Illustrate. 144. The early manifestations of the desire 
for possession. 145. How is desire for wealth affected b}^ 
perception of advantages ? 146. Enumerate advantages 
of wealth. "Love of money." 147. What is covetous- 
ness and its motives ? Criticisms. 148. What is ava- 
rice ? Its strength and its irrational character. 149. Word 
portraits of a miser's life and death. 150. Account for 
the passionate and terrible strength of avarice. 151. How 
does the miser argue under association and regret? 152. 
Enumerate three missions of the desire for possession. 
153. Show how the desire for property has its mission in 
support. 154. Show how desire for propertj^ has its mis- 
sion in relief 155. Show how desire for property has its 
mission in elevation. 156. Universal and various mani- 
festations of desire for society. 1^157. The irrepressible 
and unselfish character of desire for society. 158. Prac- 
tical and historical products of solitude. 158. Illustrate 
the nobility of desire for companionship. 159. Show that 
desire for companionship may lead to love. 160. Ac- 
count for "hermit-life." Enumerate historical proofs. 

161. The desire for society as found in the animal world. 

162. The teachings of prison syvStems as to desire for so- 
ciety. 163. Enumerate three missions of the desire for 
society. 164. Show that companionship is desired as a 
moral safeguard. 165. What has companionship to do 
with culture and happiness. 166. When does desire for 
companionship become unreasonable? 167. What is it 
to desire esteem ? Practical enumeration. 168. How are 
men affected by glory, honor, fame? 169. Prove that 
desire for esteem is not an acquired impulse. 170. Enu- 



530 T p: S T T O P I c s . 

merate illustrative proofs that desire for esteem is univer- 
sal. 171. Bnumerate illustrative proofs that desire for 
esteem is unselfish. 172. Enumerate manifestations of life 
that reveal the desire for esteem. 173. Show how loss of 
reputation affects men. 174. Show how men pine away 
under reproach and shame. 175. Show how an approv- 
ing voice may give men courage. 176. Account for 
tombstones and monuments. 177. Is the desire for fame 
and recollection a mere fancy? 178. Is the desire for 
praise the outgro-wth of conceit ? 179. Show that desire 
for esteem is a social and moral impulse. 180. Show that 
love of applause weakens character. 181. Is reputation 
the true measure of great worth ? 182. Show that desire 
and expectancy are the essentials of hope. 183. The 
strength and permanence of intense hope. 184. When 
does hope become more ardent? Develop. 185. Bnu- 
merate the hopes of the sinning, sorrowing millions. 
186. Show how exaggeration may affect hope. 187. Do 
the pleasures of hope surpass the pleasures of reality ? 
188. Why does realization often differ from what was ex- 
pected? 189. What is impatience? Illustrate reason- 
able and unreasonable impatience. 190. Practical and 
eternal missions of hope. Enumeration. 191. Word por- 
traits of despondency and despair. 192. Word portraits 
of the hopeful maniac. 193. Prove that it is reasonable 
and practical to cling to hope. 194. What of the Chris- 
tian's hopes? The infidel's despair ? 195. What is fear? 
Its elements ? Its strength? Its growth? 196. Enu- 
merate practical missions of fear. 197. What is cowardice ? 
Foolhardiness ? Illustrate. 198. What has tempera- 
ment to do with our hopes and fears? 199. How does 
hope compare w^ith fear as a life -impulse ? 200. Show 
that as springs of action the feelings demand culture. 

201. How are our feelings affected by rational estimation ? 

202. What has self-control to do with feelings ? 203. 
How may the teacher give emotional culture ? 204. Does 
American education undervalue heart-life? 205. Make 
a full sjmopsis of the desires. Give propositions. 



TEST TOPICS. 531 

THB WILL. 

I. Enumerate proofs that it is difficult to study the will. 
2. Prove the psychological importance of the will. 3. 
Prove the practical importance of the will. 4. Prove the 
ethical importance of the will. 5. What is the theologi- 
cal importance of studying the will ? 6. Define the will, 
and illustrate its two functions. 7. What three destinies 
may the initial volition have ? 8. Describe the voluntary 
phenomena of a candidate's experience. 9. Describe the 
voluntary phenomena in the choice of a profession. 10. 
Describe the voluntary phenomena in the "Prodigal's" 
experience. 1 1 . Analyze phenomena to show the first, 
second and third destinies. 12. What four items does 
each analysis reveal? 13. Analyze other enumerated 
topics to test conclusions. 14. The purposes and variety 
of voluntary energy. 15. What is a motive? How 
does a reason differ from a cause ? 16. Show from con- 
duct and consciousness that motives are rather reasons. 
17. The two-fold origin of all motives. Develop each 
origin. 18. How do the motives of youth differ from 
those of manhood ? 19. How are motives affected by ed- 
ucational and religious systems ? 20. Characterize the 
conflict between "like" and "ought". 21. Portray the 
two issues of conflict between motives. 22. Show that 
unison of motives is a psychological mission. 23. Char- 
acterize unison of "like and ought" in practical life. 24. 
Show that choice is an initial volition. 25. Prove that 
determination, or choice, is preceded by deliberation. 26. 
Prove that the deliberation preceding choice is always 
possible and free. 27. Enumerate four steps in the de- 
velopment of a choice. 28. What is meant by diversity 
of objects? Illustrate and discuss. 29. What is meant 
by liberty of .selection ? Illustrate and discuss. 30. 
What is meant by deliberation ? Show that it is possible 
and essential. 31. Enumerate items that modify the 
character of deliberation. 32. Discuss impatient deliber- 
ation; weak deliberation. Illustrate. 33. What is meant 
by the "strongest" motive? Proper inference, 34. 
What is meant by decision, or mental execution ? 111. 
35. Summarize the discussion on the free development of 
a choice. 36. What may be foretold as to the character 

23* 



532 TKvST TOPICS. 

and certainty of a choice ? 37. Does fore-knowledge con- 
flict with freedom of choice ? Illustrate. 38. Analyze 
enumerated topics to prove from conduct that choice is 
free. 39. Show that mental execution is a final volition. 
Illustrate. 40. Show that the final volition is irrevocable 
and mentally executive. 41. How does a final volition 
reveal itself outwardly ? 111. 42. Howis the completion 
of a final volition known ? 111. 43. How does intention 
differ from voluntary conduct ? 111. 44. What have 
time and occasion to do with volition and action ? 45. 
Prove logically that the executive volition must be a free 
act. 46. Prove that the executive volition is a psycho- 
logical sequence. 47. Illustrate and prove the possible 
triumph of will over desire. 48. What is meant by call- 
ing will the first cause of character ? 49. Is it easy to 
conceive of the will as a first cause ? Hamilton. 50. 
What are some of the questions implied in freedom of 
will ? 51. Why is it difficult and important to under- 
stand human freedom ? 52. What is the nature of human 
freedom ? Is it physical freedom ? 53. Discuss and il- 
lustrate the distinctions between function and product. 
54. Illustrate and discuss the ethical element of human 
freedom. 55. Does Revelation confirm the above doc- 
trine of freedom ? 56. What is meant by freedom of 
choice ? From choice ? Distinguish. 57. What would 
make mental execution a mere farce? 58. Enumerate 
four affirmative arguments of human freedom. 59. What 
are the basis and notion of each affirmative argument ? 
60. Give the common sense argument. Distinguish be- 
lief from conviction. 61. Show that men everywhere act 
as if free. Logical inference. 65. Give the ethical argu- 
ment. Analyze a moral experience. 63. How only can 
we reasonably account for conscience ? 64, What is re- 
morse? Of what is remorse a confession ? 65. What in- 
ference do we draw from administration of justice?. 66. 
Are remorse and penalty the impositions of habit or fancy? 

67. Why does even an infidel writhe under conscience ? 

68. Is it reasonable to call conscience a divine mocker}^ ? 

69. Give the pS5^chological argument. Of what are we 
conscious ? 70. What is the testimony of memory even 
in a criminal ? 71. What follows if we can not rely on 
this argument? 72. Give the argument from contradic- 



T K S T T O P I c s . 533 

tion. What ivS fatalism ? 73. Illustrate the practical ab- 
surdity of fatalism ? 74. Is it at all likely, that man is a 
victim and God a tyrant? 75. What kind of people can 
not comprehend affirmative arguments ? 76. Enumerate 
six apparent objections to be stated and refuted. 77. Give 
the proposition on the denial of emotional predominance. 
78. What are the claims of emotional predominance ? 79. 
Refute this objection bj^ means of the psychological ar- 
gument. 80. Enumerate historical proofs against emo- 
tional predominance. 81. Show how passion may for- 
feit human freedom. 82. Give the refutation argument 
against predominance of motive. 83. What are the 
claims of predominance of motive ? Illustrate. 84. Show 
that the so-called " strongest motive" is only the "best 
reason". 85. Show that the " strongest motive" would 
make will a farce. 86. Distinguish between "moral cer- 
tainty" and " moral necessity." 87. Point out the logi- 
cal fallacy in " moral necessity" . 88. Illustrate the in- 
fluence of motives upon volition. 89. State the " dictum 
necessitatis", and explain its force. 90. Why does the 
"dictum necessitatis" deceive? 91. Show the absurdity 
of the claim of necessity of previous volition. 92. Show 
that ever}^ choice or volition has its first cause in will. 
93. Enumerate proofs that we have the power of "con- 
trary choice' ' . 94. What do the objectors claim as to con- 
trary choice. 95. Point out the difference between power 
and willingness to use it. 96. What is the proof from 
consciousness in favor of contrary choice ? 97. How do 
memory and history confirm this proof? 98. Why is 
human freedom not inconsistent with divine supremacy ? 
99. What are the objector's claims in view of admitted 
divine supremacy ? 100. Define human freedom. Is such 
freedom reasonable and adequate ? loi. Do we grant the 
justice of human limitations ? Develop. 102. Show that 
human freedom is the gift of God's love. 103. Give Dr. 
Mann's definition of human freedom. 104. What are the 
claims of this definition? 105. Point out the adequate 
perfection of such freedom. 106. Show how a degener- 
ated will cries out for divine mediation. 107. Can human 
freedom work out our own salvation ? 108. Show at 
length how psychological degeneracy points to Calvary. 
109. Enumerate three lines of exercise for cultivating the 



534 T K S T TOPICS. 

will. no. Explain how to cultivate the will by direc- 
tion. 111. III. Explain how to cultivate the will by 
stimulation. 111. 112. Explain how to cultivate the 
will b}^ self-control. 111. 113. Enumerate practical and 
moral fruits of such cultivation. 114. Is there any limit 
in cultivation of will ? 115. Explain natural and acquired 
strength of will. 111. 116. Point out the necessity of 
religious correction. 117. Why is it reasonable to bring 
our will under the touch of religion? 118. When only 
is desire fully reconciled with duty ? 119. Does Ameri- 
can education lay sufficient stress on will-culture ? 120. 
Study carefully the resume on the will. 121. Form a 
clear and logical synopsis of the resume. 122. Give all 
the propositions on the will. 123. Write a careful thesis 
on human freedom. 

SUPPI^SMSNT. 

I . The teaching of physiology as to the nature of sleep. 
2. Prove that sleep is primarily a sense- exhaustion. 3. 
Do the sense gateways close in sleep, and with what re- 
sults ? 4. Is the sleeper conscious of external environ- 
ments? Explain. 5. Is the sleeper wholly unconscious ? 
Is he self-conscious ? 6. How and why does the will de- 
pend upon sense- action ? 7. Characterize the sleeper's 
loss of power over his body. 8. Has sleep any power 
over vital functions of the body? 9. Characterize the 
sleeper's loss of power over his mind. 10. Prove that it 
is natural for the eye to fall asleep finst. 11. Illustrate 
how the eye goes to sleep first. 12. Prove the indicated 
order of sense-exhaustion in falling asleep. 13. Justify 
the practical and natural order of falling asleep. 14. Is 
death like sleep? State the inference drawn. 15. Is the 
order of falling asleep the same under all conditions ? 16. 
Prove that we fall asleep unconscioUvSly. Of what are we 
conscious? 17. What of attention and perception in 
sleep? Illustrate. 18. Characterize memor}^ and imagi- 
nation in sleep. Illustrate. 19. Characterize judgment 
and reasoning in sleep. Illustrate. 20. What of primary 
ideas and primary truths in sleep ? Illustrate. 2 1 . Char- 
acterize the aesthetical and ethical products of sleep. 22. 
What of the emotions, affections, and desires in our sleep? 



T K S T T O P I C S . 535 

23. Is there voluntary control in sleep- thoughts ? Illus- 
trate. 24. Write a thesis on the phenomena of sleep. 
25. Write the propositions on sleep, and analyze into a 
synopsis. 

DRBAMS. 

I. What is a dream ? Enumerate four characteristics. 
2. What has acquired momentum to do with dream-co- 
herency ? 3. Prove that dreams are chiefly involuntary. 

4. Prove that we are conscious of our dreams. Of what ? 

5. Does want of recollection prove a dream to have been 
unconscious ? 6. Enumerate the two bases of ordinary 
dreams. 7. What suggestive force have sensations in a 
sleeping man ? 8. Enumerate illustrations of dreams 
based on suggestions from touch. 9. Enumerate illustra- 
tions of dreams based on suggestions from hearing. 10. 
How may latent disease give color to our dreams ? 11. 
Illustrate how mental impulse becomes a dream sugges- 
tion. 12. Explain how a problem is often worked out in a 
dream. 13. In what two ways may a problem be solved 
in sleep ? 14. Does only the mathematician dream grand 
products? 15. Are dreams ever an index of genius and 
mental directions ? 16. Are dreams an evidence of nat- 
ural inclination or of actual character ? 17. Enumerate 
three chief characteristics of dreams. 18. Why are 
dreams incoherent? Apparently real? 19. Why are 
dreams seemingly long- continued? Illustrate. 20. What 
are prophetic dreams ? Illustrate. 21. Why are dreams 
not mere coincidences? Why not supernatural? 22. 
Analogy between magnetic communication and mysteri- 
ous communication. 23. Enumerate and analyze pro- 
phetic dreams as given in the text. 24. What is a pre- 
sentiment ? Is it all superstition ? Illustrate. 25. Give 
the propositions on dreams and analyze them into a syn- 
opsis. 

SOMNAMBULISM. 

I. Enumerate six phenomena of somnambulism. De- 
velop. 2. Enumerate and analyze illustrations of physi- 
cal locomotion. 3. Enumerate and analj^ze illustrations 
of artistic genius and skill. 4. Enumerate and analyze 
illustrations of uninterrupted vision. 5. Enumerate and 



536 T K vS T T O P I C S . 

analyze illustrations of vocal and tactual review. 6. 
Enumerate illustrations of clear consciousness, but no voli- 
tion. 7. What is somnambulism according to its phe- 
nomena? 8. Show that somnambulism has its origin in 
impulse and suggestion. 9. What does intensified men- 
tal energy have to do with genius ? 10. Explain inten- 
sified mental energy and tactual merging of all sensation. 
1 1 . Apply the above explanation to somnambulistic phe- 
nomena. 12. Explain each phenomena separately and in 
full. 13. Why does the somnambulist pay no attention 
to some things ? 14. Prove that somnambulistic acts 
must be conscious acts. 15. What is meant by con- 
sciousness apart from sense- contact ? 16. Why can not 
the somnambulist recall his doings? 17. Analogy be- 
tween somnambulism and nervous shock. 

MBSMMRISM. 

18. What is mesmerism? Describe phenomena. 19. 
Cautions with regard to mesmerism. Explanation. 20. 
Write the propositions on somnambulism. Analyze. 2 1 . 
Write a thesis on somnambulism. 22. Describe mesmer- 
ism in relation to diseases. 23. What is "powwowing" ? 
Is it an actual fact ? 

ABNORMAL MHNTAI, ACTION, 

I. Enumerate five conditions of abnormal mind- action. 

2. Enumerate items that may lead to abnormal actions. 

3. Who are in danger of becoming insane ? Why ? 4. 
What is the relation of the sensorium to insanity ? 5. 
What things may lead to delirium ? Explain. 6. Illus- 
trate the cause and results of delirium. 7. Describe the 
phenomena of delirium. 8. Can men guard themselves 
and others against delirium? 9. What is mania? Of 
what is it the product ? 10. Describe the phenomena of 
mania. Analyze. 11. What items may lead to mania ? 
IllUvStrate. 12. What is meant by permanent insanity ? 
Characterize. 13. Describe the mental phenomena of an 
insane man. 14. Is insanity ever hereditary? What 
then? 15. Can men ward off permanent insanity ? 16. 
Write a thesis on the character of insanit3\ 17. What is 



Tp:S 1' TOPICS. 537 

the relation of mind and body in the insane? i8. What 
is your explanation of the prevalence of insanity ? 19. Is 
the human race drifting toward insanity ? Why ? 20. 
What is the evidence of experts ? 21. What has religion 
to do with insanity? 22. What has teaching to do with 
insanity? 23. Howare justice and church affected by in- 
sanity ? 24. Study the records and statistics of insane 
asylums. 

ANIMAI, MIND. 

I. Why vshould we look for some kind of mind in ani- 
mals? 2. Should we expect generic difference between 
animal and human mind ? 3. Why is it difficult to study 
animal mind ? Why important ? 4. What must be the 
sources of information on animal mind? 5. Enumerate 
generic difference between animal and human mind. 6. 
What is meant by linguistic equivalents in animals ? 
Illustrate. 7. Analyze the illustration on spider monkeys. 
Enumerate inferences. 8. What is the relation of animal 
intelligence and consciousness ? Enumerate characteris- 
tics of self-consciousness. 10. Prove that animals have 
approaches to self- consciousness. 11. Enumerate and 
analyze illustrations of animal consciousness. 12. Prove 
that this consciousness is a record only of sensation and 
association. 13. Show that animals lack all real self- con- 
sciousness. 14. What else must be lacking in animal 
mind, if real self- consciousness is lacking? 15. Analyze 
illustrations of so called animal attention. 16. Distin- 
guish impulsive attention from voluntary attention. 17. 
Describe the process and enumerate the products of ani- 
mal perception. 18. Distinguish animal perception from 
human perception. Illustrate. 19. Show that divinely 
directed impulse is a practical law of brute action. 20. 
Why has animal memory to do only with sensation and 
impulse? 21. Enumerate distinctions betw^een animal 
memory and human memory. 22 Show that animal 
memory is rather a repetition of sensation. 23. Analyze 
the illustration of animal grief Characterize fully. 24. 
Illustrate the effect of repeated association upon horse- 
memory. 25. Analyze phenomena of the " Equine Para- 
dox" exhibition. 26. Show that immediate inference is 



53^ '^ K S T T O P I c .s . 

based upon accurate animal sensations. 27. Can we show 
that animals have the power of ideal creation ? 28. Enu- 
merate illustrations to prove the absence of animal imagi- 
nation. 29. Analyze enumerations to prove the absence of 
animal aesthetic nature. 30. Show by illustrations that ani- 
mal judgment conforms action to accurate sensations. 
31. Enumerate and analyze illustrations of intelligent ani- 
mal judgment. 32. Show that animal judgment can be 
applied only to animal missions. 33. Show by illustra- 
tions that animals can not abstract, generalize, etc. 34. 
Analyze illustrations to show that animal lack syllogistic 
reflection. 35. Explain the intelligent doings of elephants 
and crows. 36. Show that animal minds are not endowed 
with Reason. 37. Show that there is no practical neces- 
sity for animal intuition. 38. Analyze illustrations that 
look like products of Reason. 39. Analyze an illustra- 
tion of apparent knowledge of personal identity. 40. 
Show by illustrations that animals lack the aesthetic fac- 
ulty. 41. Show by illustrations that animals lack all 
moral powers. 42. Show by illustrations how animals 
come to act as if they knew right. 43. Do animals real- 
ly know remorse ? What is animal shame ? 44. Of 
what simple emotions are animals capable ? Illustrate. 
45. Of what affections are animals capable ? Analyze il- 
lustrations. 46. Of what desires are animals capable? 
Analyze illustrations. 47. What can you say of hope and 
fear in animals ? Illustrate. 48. Show that animal feel- 
ings are irresistible impulses to action. 49. Why do ani- 
mals not need a determinative and executive power ? 50. 
Analyze illustrations of apparent will- exertion in animals. 
5 1 . What takes place of the will in animal action ? Illus- 
trate. 52. Enumerate remarkably intelligent animal ac- 
tivities. 53. Is animal skill the product of culture? 
What follows ? 54. Is animal intelligence capable of uni- 
versal application? 55. Is animal architecture, etc., a 
scientific product ? Illustrate. 56. Enumerate and analyze 
illustrations of animal intelligence prior to culture. 57. 
What inference do we draw from the above enumerations. 
58. Why do we predict immortality of human mind ? 59. 
What is the force of common conviction that animals are 
not immortal ? 60. If animals are not immortal, is there 
a generic distinction ? 61. Have animals moral and reli- 



T KvST TOPI CS . 539 

gious impulses ? Illustrate. 62. If animals have no re- 
ligious and no moral nature, what follows ? 63. Write 
the propositions on animal mind and analyze them. 64. 
Write a neat and comprehensive outline on Animal Mind. 

MISCELLANBOUS TESTS, 

I. Enumerate and characterize the comprehensive pow- 
ers of human mind. 2. Enumerate and characterize the 
specific, or distinct, powers of the mind. 3. The analogy 
and difference between sensation and consciousness. 4. 
Enumerate 15 mental functions and their respective prod- 
ucts. 5. Give pen-pictures of 15 mental processes. 6. 
Characterization of all mental products. 7. Prove the 
practical and the psychological use for five senses. 8. 
Discuss the importance of suggestion in all functions of the 
mind. 9. How would you cultivate reproductive and 
productive imagination? 10. Discuss the educational 
value of the two forms of imagination. 11. What is a 
percept? A concept ? A pure abstract? 12. Describe 
the process of abstraction. 13. What is absolutely right ? 
Illustrate the operations of conscience. 14. How does 
consciousness differ from conscience ? 15. Define human 
freedom. Develop 4 affirmative arguments. 16. How do 
primary qualities of bodies differ from secondary quali- 
ties ? "17. Prove the existence of primary ideas and pri- 
mary truths. 18. What is it in a thing that constitutes 
its real beaut}^ ? 19. ^y what faculty does a child ac- 
quire concrete knowledge ? 20. By what faculties does 
a child acquire abstract ideas ? 21. Why is it natural for 
the mind to pass from the concrete to the abstract ? 22. 
How would you establish a natural law ? A matter of 
fact ? 23. How would you prove a practical phenome- 
non ? 24. Is attention ever involuntary ? What is in- 
terest? 25. Distinguish between consciousness and atten- 
tion. 26. What is the relation of psychology to pedago- 
gy? 27. Distinguish between mental degeneracy and 
weakness. 28. What is the great law of mental culture ? 
Illustrate. 29. Is it genius or culture that makes a good 
teacher? 30. Distinguish education from learning; edu- 
cation from instrution. 31. Upon what basis would you 
select a child's studies? 32. What is a teacher's use of 



540 T K S T TOPICS. 

psychological culture ? 33. What has psychology to do 
with temperament and physiognonty ? 

COMPRBHBNSIVB TMSTS. 

I. Write a logical essay on the pre-eminence of human 
mind. 2. Develop four characteristics of a mental facul- 
ty and find whether consciousness is a faculty. 3. Ana- 
alyze the definition on attention into topics and write an 
essay on it. 4. Character of perception as a power; as a 
process; its product; mental value. 5. How do we know 
anything of the world round about us ? Develop. 6. 
Make a synopsis of the laws of association and show their 
suggestive value. 7. Write a logical essay on retention, 
recollection and recognition. 8. Write a logical CvSsay on 
the psychological and practical mission of ideal creation. 
9. Enumerate four functions of judgment. Describe the 
processes and products. 10. Outline reasoning in a logi- 
cal synopsis of forty headings. II. Write a critical and 
analytic essay on the aesthetic faculty and its mission. 12. 
Write a critical and analytic essay on Conscience and its 
mission. 13. Outline exactly and fully the whole emo- 
tional nature. 14. Outline the human will in a synopsis 
of forty headings. 15. Analyze the definition on will; on 
human freedom; Dr. Mann's definition. 16. Write an es- 
say developing the four proofs of human freedom. 17. 
Write an outline and an essay on sleep. 18. Write an 
outline and an CvSsay on dreams. 19. Describe six phe- 
nomena of somnambulism and give explanation. 20. Por- 
tray the various forms on insanity and give explanations. 
2 1 . Write a logical outline on animal mind, and develop the 
outline. 22. Analyze the definition on mind. Explain 
the force of terms used. 23. What do you think is the 
mission of psychology in American education ? 24. Ex- 
plain how pedagogical methods should grow out of accu- 
rate psychology. 



'"TLde^:, 



Introduction, 

Nature of Mind, 

Existence of Mind, 

A Mental Faculty, 

Information, 
Consciousness, 

Characterization , . 

Development, . 

Domain, 

Cultivation, 
Attention, 

Nature, 

Automatic Action, 

Value of Attention, . 

Process, 

One Object, 
Perception, 

A Faculty, 

Its Process, , 

Percept Knowledge, 

Sense Information, 

Acquired Perceptions, 

Cultivation, 
Memory, 

Suggestion, . 

Association, 

Retention, 

Relations, 

Mnemonics, 

Recollection, 



23 

26 
27 
28 
33 
34 
35 
37 
40 
45 
47 
47 
49 
49 
50 
51 
54 
55 
55 
58 
66 
76 

82 
83 
87 
91 
93 
96 
100 



542 



1 N D K X 



Kecognitioii, 

Cultivation, 
Imagination, 

Process, 

Products, 

Mission, . 

Cultivation, 
Judgment, 

Direct Comparison, 

Abstraction, 

Generalization, 

Classification, . 

Cultivation, . 
Keasoning, 

Syllogisms, . 

Deduction, 

Induction, 

Experience, 

Testimony, . 

Analogy, , 

Hypothesis, . 

Cultivation, 
Intuition, 

Primary Ideas, 

Primary Truths, . 

Ideas in Detail, 

Space, . 

Time, 

Identity, 

Cause, 

The Aesthetic, 

Taste, 

The Moral, . 

Conscience, 

Cultivation, 
Sensibility, . 

Simple Emotions, 

Cheerfulness, 

Melancholy, 

Sorrow, 

Sympathy, . 

Self-Excellence, 



INDEX 



543 



Tlic Ludicrous, 

Novelty and Var 

The Beautiful, 

The Sublime, 

The Eight, . 
Affections, . 

Kindred, 

Friendship, 

Gratitude, 

Patriotism, 

Philanthropy, 

Piety, .' . 

Kesentment, 
Desires, 

Happiness, . 

Power, 

Knowledge, . 

Possession, 

Society, 

Esteem, 

Hope and Fear, 

Cultivation, 
The Will, 

Nature, 

Destinies, 

Illustrations, 

Analysis, 

Ends, 

Motives, 

Origin, 

Conflict, 

Unison, 

Choice, 

Objects, 

Selection, 

Deliberation. 

Decision, 

C*tainty, 

Volition, 

Freedom, . 

Argumentation, 

Objections, 



iety 



■r 



/S 



/ 


f'^iom 




•s-'^SL-'- 


544 INDEX. 


■c^<. 


Cultivation, . . . . . 


. 448 


Kesume, 


450 


Supplement, 


. 455 


Sleep, . . 


4.^5 


Nature, 


. 455 


Death, ....... 


458 


Dreams, 


. 462 


Nature, 


462 


Origin, . . . . . 


•. 463 


Characteristics, 


466 


Presentiment, 


. 468 


Somnambulism, 


470 


Phenomena, 


. 470 


Origin, . . . . . 


471 


Explanation, 


. 472 


Mesmerism, 


476 


Phenomena, . . . . 


. 476 


Explanation, 


476 


Abnormal Action, .... 


. 478 


Delirium, '■ . 


479 


Mania, 


. 480 


Insanity, 


481 


Animal Mind, 


.483 


Animal Intelligence, . . . 


484 


Comparisons and Contrasts, 


494 


Test Topics, ^t' 


499 



,!;,!,lf''^RY OF CONGRESS 



020 198 894 9 



